Truth Breeds Lies
by DizzyDG
Summary: When Ned Stark returns to Riverrun after Robert's Rebellion he presents Catelyn with two babies. He also presents her with a truth that will change everything. AU. Rated M.
1. Prologue: Promises

**A/N: **Hey guys!

I didn't expect to get this up so soon but I have a few chapters ready and I just thought I'd gauge the reaction by posting up the prologue. It should give you a feel for exactly how AU I'm planning on going this time around.

Also, you should be able to tell that I'm spanning more of Westeros and getting into the heads of more characters. With this in mind I'm sure you can understand that daily updates are unlikely. I will try and get at least two, if not three, chapters up a week.

Anyway, please let me know what you think of the prologue, any feedback would be fantastic!

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing from GRRM's fabulous world of GoT. I only own this little idea of mine and any OC's that might crop up!

Please drop me a review and I hope you enjoy!

:)

* * *

><p><strong>Prologue: Promises<strong>

* * *

><p><em>Dorne<em>

* * *

><p>He staggered against the man, their swords pressed firmly against one another, neither one of them willing to give an inch. The walkway was littered with bodies, the flagstones running red with the blood of the fallen men. It was near done now, he could hear the clashing of another fight behind him but that was not his fight. This right here was his fight as he huffed, pushing away with everything he could against the man he was duelling. The knight staggered backwards then and he seized his chance. <em>This is for her,<em> he thought to himself as he plunged his sword into the stomach of the man so hard it cut clean through his fine armour with a sickeningly metallic noise before it pierced his skin. He didn't scream in pain. His breathing was cut off almost in an instant, the gurgling noise at the back of his throat telling the victor he would be dead in seconds. Sure enough when the sword was pulled back from his body he fell to the floor and moved no more.

It took a second for the man standing above his lifeless body to remember why he was here. To remember the other fight that had been going on behind him. He turned sharply then and saw his friend pulling off his helm and wiping a hand across his brow, the final opponent dead at his feet. It had taken almost all his men to get this far and now only two of them remained. There were more not far away, camped in a secluded area just off the road so there would be a large enough group of them to return to King's Landing.

He swallowed hard then and looked at his friend who gave him an encouraging nod. He turned back to the tower then. The reason they were here was in there, he didn't even want to think about the state he would find her in. All that had happened. All the war and all the death had been for her. He wondered if she had any idea as he slowly walked along the walkway towards the door. Unsurprisingly it was locked and he turned back and searched the body of the nearest white cloak. He had a key on him and he straightened up and tried it in the lock. It turned easily and he pushed it open silently, the hinges not even creaking slightly.

The light inside was dim but he could make out the stairs and he took them two at a time, the further up them he got the more his heart pounded and before he knew it he was calling out her name. He got no response and fear gripped at him as he rose higher and higher up the tower, finally coming to the final floor, the door he was faced with closed but thankfully not locked as he turned the handle, still shouting her name. It faded to a whisper then as he fell through the door and caught sight of her.

"Lyanna," he whispered, her eyes were already on his but they were full of tears.

"Ned," she managed to say back, her voice so weak he could barely hear it.

Somehow he managed to put one foot in front of the other and approach her, the slight whimpering that did not come from her confirming his fears as he came closer. She seemed to be using all the strength she had left to cling to the bundle of blankets in her arms. The bed was soaked in blood and Ned felt sick, sicker than he had when he had stepped along the walkway and felt his boots sticking to the stones. This was his sister. What had that monster done to his sister?

"Ned," she gasped out again, "Ned you have to take him"

"What did he do to you Lia?" he asked her, his eyes darker than usual as he stared down at her.

"Take him … take him … he needs to be with … his … father," she managed.

"Lia …?" he shook his head, kneeling on the bed and putting a shaking hand to her clammy forehead.

"I'm … sorry I … ran … I broke my … promise," she choked.

"What do you mean ran?" he questioned her, his brow furrowing.

"I love … him … Ned," she said and he saw her hold even more tightly to the baby in her arms.

"Rhaegar?" he asked and she could only manage a faint nod.

"Promise me … you will take … Jon … to him," she said then, her voice fading further.

"Lyanna … I don't …" he started but stopped himself. How could he tell her now she was dying?

"Promise me Ned!" she said desperately, a coughing fit taking over her.

"I …" he staggered over the words. If anyone knew about this her son would die.

"I know father … must be … angry … and Brandon … oh Gods … he will be … furious …" she gasped.

"No," he said, shaking his head and stroking her hair soothingly, "no one's angry with you," that part at least was true.

She seemed soothed by his words and closed her eyes at his touch, her laboured breathing the only thing that told him she was holding on to life as she lay so still. The baby squirmed in his blanket then and let out an insistent cry and her eyes fluttered open again at once. Ned's eyes stung with tears at the look of regret and pain that crossed her features as she looked down on her boy, shifting him up closer to her. It looked like it cost her a lot of effort and so Ned moved to help her and she pressed a kiss to her baby's forehead, before her own head dropped heavily back against the pillows.

"Keep him safe," she implored him then, "safe until … until you can … get him to Rhaegar … will you … will you promise me Ned?"

"I promise," he assured her, pressing his lips firmly together to stop the tears escaping.

"Promise me Ned," she whispered again, her eyes fluttering closed.

"I promise," he told her again but she didn't hear him.

The tears leaked from his eyes then as he stared down at her, her chest no longer rising and falling and her face as pale and beautiful as freshly fallen snow. He leant closer to her and pressed his lips to her forehead, his tears falling down onto her still face as he pulled away slowly, the cries of the boy still clamped in her arms rousing him. He looked at the baby then, his face all scrunched up as he cried. The light sprinkling of hair on his head was dark and he could see that his eyes would be too once they changed from their baby blue. _Thank the Gods. _

With shaking hands he picked up the bundle and rocked him gently. The baby began to calm somewhat, only soft whimpers leaving his tiny little lips now and Ned couldn't help but smile slightly as he looked down on him. Keep him safe. That's what Lyanna had asked of him. That had been the dying wish of his sister. Keep him safe. There was only one way that he could do that now and his heart panged uncomfortably as he thought of his wife. Would Catelyn ever forgive him? Could she?

He forced her beautiful image from his mind as he rose up from the bed and cradled Jon against his chest, his heart beating furiously as he thought of his own son. The son he had yet to meet and hold like this. Robb would be much bigger than Jon, he had received news of his birth months ago, just before the Battle of the Trident. It would have been so easy to ride back to Riverrun once it was done with but he had had to ride instead to Dorne. He had to bring Lyanna home. He glanced back towards the bed then and swallowed hard. She would still be going home, he would make sure of that. He tore his eyes away from the sight of her body then and his eyes were caught by what sat atop the table in the corner. Roses. Blue winter roses. He could tell even though they were wilted and dying, the edge of the petals crisp, some of them having already dropped to the floor. They had been her favourites; blue winter roses.

* * *

><p><em>Riverrun<em>

* * *

><p>Catelyn regretfully tore her eyes from her son who was kicking his legs up in the air and grabbing onto his tiny feet with his hands, a happy smile on his face as he gurgled up at her. There was a commotion in the hallway and she stood up to cross to the door to see what was going on. A maid was rushing passed as she opened it and she called out to stop her at once.<p>

"What is it? What's going on?" she asked her.

"Banners approaching milady," the maid answered.

"Stark banners?" she questioned, her heart thudding in her chest.

"No milady, Arryn," the girl told her and Catelyn tried not to make her disappointment obvious.

"Thank you," she said and the maid smiled sympathetically at her before continuing on down the hall.

Catelyn turned back into her own chambers then and closed the door, leaning back against the wood and taking a few breaths to compose herself. For one shining second she had thought that her husband would soon be arriving. That she would have to bundle Robb back up in his swaddling and wrap him up tight to take him out into the courtyard to await the arrival of his father. But it wasn't Ned, it was Jon Arryn who was approaching, riding back to claim his wife before he took up the position as Hand of the King. She tried not to feel bitter and jealous of her sister but it was difficult not to. The war was over. Ned should have returned. She needed her husband back and her son needed his father.

His squawking drew her attention then and she crossed back over to the cradle and looked down on him, the smile tugging on her lips the way it always did when her eyes looked down on her baby. He was such a strong boy, the Maester was thrilled with him. He fed well and his eyes were always bright and curious as he gazed around at his surroundings. He favoured her Tully colouring, his auburn curls several shades darker than her own, his eyes the exact blue that stared back at her in the mirror. Robb was utterly perfect, the single most precious thing she had ever laid eyes on. The very definition of love.

Oh how she wanted Ned to come back so he could feel it too.

* * *

><p><em>King's Landing<em>

* * *

><p>"Your daughter has arrived my Lord," the squire bowed to him and he looked up from his desk.<p>

"Send her in," he said and the man bowed low before disappearing.

Tywin sat back in his chair then and sighed in satisfaction. It had taken some persuading but Robert had seen it his way in the end. A King must have a Queen after all and Lyanna Stark was dead. There must be some kind of cold irony in that, Tywin thought. The very cause for war had been snuffed out herself. Not that it mattered much to him, the death of the Stark girl meant nothing but being able to further the cause of his own house. He wouldn't be Hand anymore but that mattered little if his grandson would one day be King of the Seven Kingdom's.

The door opened then and his daughter swept in. He smiled in satisfaction at her, he had once hoped Rhaegar Targaryen would take an interest in her but it was for the best now that he hadn't. He thought of the Princess Elia and her children, and of what the new King was riding to Dragonstone to do and silently thanked the Gods that Rhaegar had not wanted Cersei. She stood patiently before him, already holding herself so regally, and his satisfied smile grew wider.

"You're to be Queen," he told her after a moment and her green eyes widened a fraction.

"Truly?" she asked him and he nodded, a smile spreading across her face at his action.

"You're to be married when the King returns from Dragonstone," he informed her.

It was her turn to nod then, her mind spinning with what her father had told her. She was to be Queen, she was to be Robert Baratheon's wife, the man who had started a rebellion to reclaim the woman he loved. That woman was dead now though and Cersei was very much alive. Her beauty would bewitch him she was sure of it. He would fall in love with her and forget the boring Stark girl. How could he not? She would be his wife, the mother of his children. The thought made her giddy and she worked hard to not let it show on her face.

"When will that be?" she asked her father then.

"When he had done what he set out to," he told her and she frowned.

"Why has he gone to Dragonstone?" she questioned.

"To deal with the last Targaryen's," he replied and her eyebrows raised slightly at his hidden meaning.

* * *

><p><em>Dragonstone<em>

* * *

><p>Ned dismounted his horse and hurried up the steps of the keep at once. Gods he hoped he was not too late. They had met some of the Kings men on the road, some stragglers behind the main group and they had told him where Robert was going. They didn't need to tell him anymore, he knew at once why his friend was riding to Dragonstone and he wasn't about to let it happen. Not again.<p>

"I want that fucking Targaryen cunt found!" he heard the familiar bellow as he ran down hallway after hallway, bursting into the chambers that Robert was occupying.

"Ned!" the man burst out in surprise.

"Don't do it," Ned said at once and Robert stared at him.

"Can't do anything, the little bastard has escaped," Robert snarled and he felt relief flood him; "We still have the girl though," Robert said then and Ned's heart dropped.

"A babe!" Ned gasped as a shaking wet nurse was marched into the room, a baby clamped tightly in her arms.

"A _Targaryen _babe," Robert emphasised.

"You can't be serious Robert!" Ned protested.

"She's a threat!" he snapped.

"She's a babe at the breast! The war is over! Stop this madness!" Ned insisted.

"Her blood carries madness, best stop the poison spreading," Robert said.

"Not again! Not after Elia's children – the people won't stand for it! They may forgive for the others but not this, not now the war is done!" Ned implored him.

"She's a threat to _my _throne!" he growled.

"Only if you let her be … show mercy Robert … a King must show mercy lest he be known as a tyrant," Ned insisted.

"So what would you have me do Ned? Bundle her up and take her to the Capitol and raise her as my own?" he asked mockingly.

"No … no of course not," Ned shook his head.

"The what?!" Robert snapped at him, finally meeting his eyes.

"Let me take her … I can take her to the North, she can be my ward," he said after a moment.

"Are you mad Ned?" Robert almost laughed.

"I can make sure she's raised right … to know that you are the rightful King," Ned insisted.

"You're a damn fool Ned," he said, shaking his own head now.

"Is that a yes?" Ned asked almost desperately.

"If you have to … but one sniff of trouble and I want that girl put down you hear me?!" Robert snarled.

"There will be no trouble," Ned assured him.

"There better not be," Robert finished, a threatening edge to his voice as they met eyes again.

Ned kept his eyes on his for a long moment before finally turning away from Robert and approaching the wet nurse who was still clamped firmly between two guards. He could see her wincing slightly at the strong grip the men had on her but her own arms stayed securely around the baby. Ned started to think about what he had just done as he walked towards them, he'd now be presenting Catelyn with two babies. Funnily enough he imagined he would accept the little Targaryen babe a lot quicker than she would accept Jon … if she would ever accept Jon. He shook his head then to clear it of that troublesome thought as he came to a stop in front of the wet nurse.

"Unhand her," he said to the guards and they hesitated for a moment before doing as he asked; "What is her name?" he asked the shaking girl then.

"Dany … my Lord," the girl told him, "Daenerys Targaryen"

"Hand her to me," he said, holding his arms out but the girl hesitated, her grip tightening on Dany; "I won't hurt her … she will be safe with me," he promised.

"But who will feed her … take care of her?" the girl asked almost desperately.

"It will be taken care of," Ned assured her, she could share with Jon until they reached Riverrun.

"Please … my Lord, would you consider allowing me to come too?" she asked him.

"To the North?" he questioned in surprise, not many southerners ventured up there willingly.

"Yes," she said, her voice shaking slightly as she met his eyes for a moment before they slid to the men who had held her and Ned too saw the hungry expression in their eyes.

"If you're sure," he said quietly, "what's your name?"

"Loral my Lord," she curtseyed slightly.

"We leave in an hour, make sure you're both ready," he told her.

* * *

><p><em>Riverrun<em>

* * *

><p>Edmure was making a racket as he crashed down the hallway. Catelyn jumped up in irritation and went straight for the door, she had just got Robb to sleep and she would be damned if her little brother woke him up again. He hadn't been sleeping well at all since a tooth had been threatening to poke out of his gums, he had taken to hauling himself onto his knees and gnawing at the edge of his cradle. The Maester told her it was normal but it looked anything but to Catelyn. He seemed to chew on anything he could get his hands on when he was sat up in the nursery surrounded by toys and pillows. Robb could hold himself up well now and rarely teetered but she was still worried about him toppling over onto the hard stone floor.<p>

She wrenched open the door then and saw her brother practically skipping down the hallway towards her exclaiming so many things at once that she could not make out a word of it. Whatever it was he needed to be quiet now.

"Will you shut up," she hissed as she marched towards him, "Robb is sleeping"

"Sorry Cat," he apologised, "it's just … banners have been sighted"

"Banners?" she repeated stupidly.

"Stark banners … with the wolf!" he exclaimed again and she hushed him at once.

"Ned," she whispered then.

* * *

><p>Catelyn stayed in the entrance hall twisting her hands together until she heard the sound of hooves against the stones of the courtyard. She took a deep breath then and swallowed hard before making her way out of the doors. Robb was still in the nursery, she was loathe to wake him when he so rarely slept and she hoped that Ned wouldn't be annoyed with her. Knowing Ned he would prefer to meet his son in private anyway, far away from the prying eyes of the people of Riverrun. Her eyes scanned the courtyard for him as she made her way carefully down the steps. Eventually she saw him, dismounting at the side of a carriage which she frowned at the sight of. He came towards her then – was it her imagination or did he have a slightly apprehensive look in his eyes?<p>

"Cat," he greeted, his voice sounding almost relieved.

"Ned," she smiled back at him and in the next instant his arms were around her.

"Where is he? Where's our boy?" he asked then and she pulled out of his warm embrace.

"In the nursery," she told him, "I'm sorry … I would have brought him out but he is sleeping and he has been getting so little of it that last days as he has a tooth coming"

"A tooth?" Ned repeated wonderingly, "Gods I have missed so much"

"He's strong Ned … everyone says it," she said proudly and his lips twitched up.

"Thank the Gods," he said then and she saw that strange look in his eyes again.

She was about to tell him that she would take him up to see Robb when the carriage opened and a woman stepped carefully down with a bundle in her arms. Catelyn knew at once that it was a baby but for the life of her she could not work out why Ned would have brought women and children back with him. He had come from war … why were they here? She looked at him quizzically then and he steeled himself. This was it.

"We have another addition," he said and her eyes widened.

"I don't understand," she stated.

"This is Dany … Daenerys Targaryen," he said, pulling back the blankets so Catelyn could see the baby girl in Loral's arms.

"Targaryen?" she repeated.

"She's to be our ward … it was that or …" he tailed off and Catelyn understood at once.

"You should take her inside," she said to Loral then, "one of the maids will show you up to the nursery"

"Thank you my Lady," Loral curtseyed before making her way carefully towards the keep.

"Thank you," Ned said gratefully.

"She's an orphaned girl … an innocent babe, did you think I would turn her away?" she asked in slight amusement.

"No of course not, I just …" he started but cut off as another woman came down from the carriage with another baby.

"Gods Ned! How many wards are we taking?!" Catelyn laughed then, stepping towards the woman before he could caution her and pushing the blankets aside herself.

She froze when she peered down at the baby, his eyes blinking inquisitively up at her. Grey eyes. Stark eyes. She snapped her head back to Ned then and saw the look on his face and it took all her poise and strength not to break down and cry. She wanted to cry, she wanted to scream and rage and tell him he was a liar. It was Brandon, they told her, Brandon would be the one to break her heart and take mistress after mistress. Then, when she was to be married to Ned instead they told her she was lucky, that he was good and honourable. Faithful. He would keep his vows. She met his eyes then, the same eyes as this baby. Liar's eyes.

He grabbed her arm lightly as she made to march passed him but let go quickly at the look that flashed in her deep blue eyes when they met his.

"You promised me Ned," she said venomously, "I don't want that child anywhere near my son do you hear me?"

All he could do was nod then and he saw her beautiful accusing eyes fill with tears before she tore them away from his and marched back towards the keep.

* * *

><p>Lord Tully eventually came into the room that Ned was awkwardly occupying. He didn't know where his wife was and he didn't know where his son was. He knew nothing about the layout of Riverrun save where the main hall was and where the Sept was. He couldn't even remember the room that he and Catelyn had shared for that one heavenly night and he was ashamed at his forgetfulness. When he looked up into the eyes of his good-father he instantly wanted to look away again. They were Catelyn's eyes and they were just as accusing.<p>

"Please," Ned said before Hostor could speak, "I have not even seen my son yet"

His good-father frowned at him slightly but Ned could see the conflict in his eyes and eventually the older man sighed in evident frustration and nodded his head slightly, gesturing him to follow. Ned did as he was told and dared not say anything else as they walked down hallway after hallway. The silence was almost crushing him and he could barely stand it. Just when he thought he could take no more they came to a stop outside a door.

"He's in there," Hostor told him, "mind you don't wake him now or Cat will be furious … mind … she already is," he finished and Ned flushed in shame.

"I'm sorry," Ned told him.

"It's not me who needs your grovelling Lord Stark," he almost snapped before walking away.

Ned pushed open the door carefully then, his eyes wandering right over Loral who was rocking Dany in an armchair and fixed on the cradle at the other side of the room. His heart was pounding and he barely heard Loral as she made her apologies and excuses to leave him alone with his boy. _His _boy. His heart soared at the mere thought of it as he finally came close enough to be able to peer into the cradle. He was sleeping. He was tiny. Bigger still than Dany and Jon but still tiny in Ned's eyes. He favoured his mother, his hair darker than hers but still unmistakably Tully. His nose could be Stark Ned supposed, and perhaps his lips as well. He wondered what colour his eyes were then as he watched him sleeping, resisting the urge to reach down and touch his tiny hand.

The door opened behind him then and he didn't turn. He somehow knew it was Catelyn and he didn't have it in him to look her in the eyes yet. Conflict was raging in him and he had no idea which side would win out. Loyalty to his wife or loyalty to his dead sister. Did it even have to be a choice?

_You promised me Ned! _Catelyn accused him.

_Promise me Ned. _Lyanna's dying words.

_You promised me Ned!_ Could he live with her hating him forever?

"He's not mine," he said then before he could stop himself.

"What?" Catelyn whispered so quietly he barely heard her; "you dare say that to me after what you've done? I know he favours my colouring but he is your son Ned!"

"Not Robb," he soothed her at once, finally turning away from the cradle to look at her; "Jon"

"That boy?" she questioned, her tone hard.

"He's not mine," he told her again.

"You expect me to believe that?" she almost snorted.

"He's Lyanna's," he said quietly and she stared at him, he could see her mind working it out and as her eyes widened he knew she had got there.

"Rhaegar?" she breathed, her eyes flickering to the door before she took several paces towards him.

"No one can know Cat," he said firmly, gripping the top of her arms, "no one"

"No one," she agreed, meeting his eyes, "not ever"

"Not ever," he nodded.

"He's yours," she said then and he swallowed hard.

"He's mine," he agreed.

A noise from behind Ned roused them both then and their eyes left one another's, Ned turning to look down into the cradle where his son was wide awake and kicking his blankets furiously away from him. Robb ceased what he was doing as he caught sight of his father, his bright blue eyes shining in confusion for a moment before his lips broke into a wide gummy smile. Ned's heart soared and Catelyn saw the look of wonder in his eyes as he bent down to lift Robb carefully into his arms.

"Meet your son," she smiled then, blinking rapidly to stop the tears coming.

"My son," he breathed against Robb's soft head, "my boy, my _only_ boy."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **So yeah ... that's how AU. Hope you liked it. Please let me know.

I will most likely put the first proper chapter up on Friday/Saturday.

:)


	2. The Royal Announcement

**A/N: **Hey guys! New chapter for you all. Hope you enjoy it.

Just a few guest thank yous first.

**Pop: **I'm glad you like the idea and the prologue, hope you continue to enjoy!

**Fear: **Thank you, glad you liked it. Don't worry, I won't be doing that pairing!

On with the chapter now, thoughts would be amazing as always. I'll try and get another chapter up for you all early next week!

:)

* * *

><p><strong>The Royal Announcement<strong>

* * *

><p><em>Winterfell<em>

* * *

><p>"Ned I am not even sure I want Robb with one let alone Rickon!"<p>

"Cat please, have you seen how happy they are?" Ned questioned her exasperatedly.

"They are _direwolves _Ned, were puppies too dull?" she demanded.

He almost laughed then but he knew that would only get him into more trouble. Thankfully he was saved from having to say anything else by the door opening and Robb slipping into the room with one of the little pups in his arms. Ned let his eyes slide to Catelyn's then and saw they were narrowed slightly at the thing in Robb's arms that was little more than a ball of fluff. _They will grow Ned! _

"I'm sorry," Robb apologised, "father … would you mind coming out to the yard? Bran needs some _encouragement _with the bow"

"I thought you and Jon were teaching him," Ned said, slight amusement underlying his tone.

"We can't do anymore," he sighed, "please?"

"Alright," Ned huffed in mock irritation then and his eldest son grinned widely.

"Do you want to hold Grey Wind mother?" Robb asked Catelyn then and Ned watched her reaction as her eyes narrowed slightly.

Robb seemed unperturbed though and approached his mother, shifting the pup up so his tiny front paws rested on his arm, his face visible to Catelyn. The wolf let out a tiny yap then and Ned could see that Catelyn was softening despite herself, the corners of her mouth threatening to twitch up. Robb moved even closer then and she sighed heavily in defeat and raised her hand up to lightly stroke the top of the pups head. Ned smiled then and saw that Robb too was grinning widely. Ned was sure that his wife would have further concerns once the pups began to grow bigger but for now at least she was placated.

"Do you really think you will be able to train them?" she asked Robb seriously then.

"I don't see why not," he grinned at her and she couldn't help but smile back up at him.

"Come on then … tiltyard," Ned interrupted then, inclining his head towards the door.

Both he and Robb made to leave then but the door was opening before they had even reached it and Maester Luwin entered looking grave.

"Forgive me my Lords, my Lady," he inclined his head to them all, "I have just received a raven from King's Landing"

"What news?" Ned asked and Catelyn could hear the edge of fear in his voice.

"Jon Arryn is dead," the Maester said gently and she felt her eyes widen and fix on her husband whose back was still to her.

"How?" Ned managed then and she took a few steps closer to him and lay her hand gently on the small of his back.

"A fever took him suddenly my Lord," the Maester said and Ned sighed heavily.

"I am so sorry my love," Catelyn murmured quietly then.

"There is further news," Maester Luwin continued then.

"My sister?" Catelyn demanded and he shook his head.

"There is no mention of her … the King in travelling north," he told them and Ned stiffened under her touch, "with the Queen and all the court"

"He's coming all this way?" Robb finally spoke, a frown creasing his brow, "why?"

"There is only one thing he wants," Ned said heavily.

"You can always say no, Ned," Catelyn told him firmly, her voice shaking slightly.

* * *

><p>"Dany?!"<p>

The familiar voice called her name repeatedly, coming closer and closer to where she was laying but she didn't reply. She had hoped she would have a little longer out in the gardens by herself. She reached her hand up then and took hold of one of the smaller branches above her head to pull herself back up into a sitting position. Looking down she could see the grass but no sign of him yet even though his voice was getting closer.

"Dany?!" he finally appeared beneath her, she could see the top of his dark auburn head.

"Up here Robb," she said, finally putting him out of his misery.

He cursed loudly then and she couldn't help the giggle that escaped her mouth as she made her way down the tree. His face was stern when she finally placed her feet back on solid ground and she wondered if she had made a mistake in scaring him. Had something happened? Before she could ask he had told her.

"My father just got a raven from the Capitol, the King is coming," he said and her heart pounded.

"Why?" she asked, the only question she could think of.

"No doubt to ask my father to become Hand of the King," Robb said slightly moodily.

"Oh," she managed, resisting the urge to reach out and pat him reassuringly on the arm.

"What were you doing up there anyway?" he asked, abruptly changing the subject.

"Thinking," she told him.

"Of?" he questioned.

"Nothing," she smiled.

"Nothing?" he repeated sceptically.

"Sometimes it's nice to think of nothing," she told him and he rolled his eyes.

"Come on … it's almost time for dinner," he said, holding his arm out.

Dany took it as she had done hundreds of times before and they ambled slowly in step back towards the keep. Robb didn't say anything and she was glad of it as her mind was racing with what he had just told her. The King was coming. The King that hated her family; that had near destroyed it. Of course she knew why he had done it, her Septa and the Maester had taught her all about it. Her father had been a tyrant. Her brother had stolen away Robert's betrothed. She thought of Princess Elia then and her children but quickly stopped, it made her feel sick. No one had an explanation for that brutality. Lord Stark had told her himself that he had been disgusted. It was the doing of Lannister men though. Dany wondered if any of them would be coming to Winterfell and she shuddered, hoping that they weren't.

"What is it?" Robb asked her then, noticing that she was chewing on her bottom lip.

"When will the King arrive?" she asked.

"In a month most like," he told her.

"Right," she said distractedly.

"It will be alright Dany," he assured her, "nothing will happen to you, you're our ward, this is your home and you belong here."

* * *

><p><em>The King's Road<em>

* * *

><p>"I still don't understand it," Cersei hissed.<p>

"Really?" Jaime asked her, it made perfect sense to him.

"Father is the obvious choice," she said insistently.

"Father betrayed the last King that he was the Hand of," he pointed out.

"But Ned Stark?" she said mockingly, "What in the name of the Gods can Robert see in him?"

"He trusts him," Jaime said, bored of the conversation now.

"Trust is foolish," his sister spat and he raised his eyebrows slightly.

"Have you always been this cynical?" he asked her.

"What do you expect?! Especially after Jon Arryn!" she spat.

Jaime sighed then, he wondered how long it would be before she brought up Jon Arryn. When she had summoned him to her chambers he had been expecting something else entirely, not for her to be striding up and down ranting on about the new Hand of the King. Personally Jaime didn't think that Ned Stark would take the job, but if he did he was sure he wouldn't be half as nosy as Jon Arryn had been. Foolish man, he had looked into matters that didn't concern him and he had paid the price. Jaime wasn't entirely sure who had made sure he never woke from his fever but he was fairly certain that Littlefinger had been involved. Petyr Baelish and Cersei were a rather formidable match, and a rather dangerous one too Jaime had to admit.

Whatever had happened no one had suspected a thing, no one apart from Jon Arryn's widow it seemed. Lysa had fled the Capitol with her young son and holed herself up in the Eyrie where it would be next to impossible to get to her. Cersei didn't seem concerned, she thought the woman was mad, and although Jaime conceded she had a point, Lysa was still Catelyn Stark's sister. If she had sent word to Ned Stark's wife about whatever suspicions she had then things at Winterfell might turn out to be much more interesting that Jaime anticipated them to be.

"He does this on purpose," Cersei seethed as loud moans of a woman drifted through the walls.

"Ignore him," Jaime advised.

"Another whore no doubt, the Gods know he can't really satisfy a woman," she spat.

"Ignore him," he said more loudly.

"The drunken old letch," she continued and Jaime grabbed her hand as she passed by him.

"Come here," he demanded, pulling her towards him, "and ignore him"

"Jaime … not here … he's too close," she protested as he pulled her down to straddle him.

"He's otherwise engaged," he said offhandedly, gathering her skirts up and slipping a hand under them to trail up her thigh.

She sighed softly then and he smiled, he liked her much better when she was like this, when they were together like this with no thoughts of anyone else. He let his fingers tease at her then and she dropped her head to his shoulder to stifle her moan in the leather of his jacket.

"See?" he breathed in her ear as he continued his motion, "you just need to relax."

* * *

><p><em>Winterfell<em>

* * *

><p>Robb clashed his sword against Jon's then and his brother staggered slightly but managed to block the blow and regain his balance. Jon then struck further left that Robb thought he would and he had to move rather awkwardly to block the blow, his own feet scuffing slightly in the dust of the tiltyard. Again they clashed swords before taking a step back as one and circling one another again, both of their eyes searching for any sign of weakness, just waiting to strike.<p>

Dany stood with Bran on the edge of the yard and watched them as they went for one another again. She already knew it would end in a draw. It always did when Robb and Jon sparred with one another so really there was no point in her watching. She couldn't help it though, she loved to watch them. Loved to watch him. Watching him in the tiltyard gave her an innocent reason to not tear her eyes away from him. She swallowed then and glanced at Bran who was engrossed in the fight. It did no good to think of Robb the way she was, he was a man grown now at eighteen and likely Lord Stark would be finding a match for him soon enough. Perhaps one of the Ladies that came with the Royal court would catch his eye and be deemed suitable?

Robb was the heir to Winterfell and the North after all, he could not be married to just anyone. Duty came first. The thought made Dany rather bitter as the sparring session came to an end and she looked up and forced a smile to her face as Jon and Robb walked grinning towards her, clapping one another on the back as they approached.

"You drew again," Bran said unnecessarily.

"Surprised?" Jon asked him, breathing rather harder than usual.

"Surely you didn't expect anything else?" Robb added, wiping the back of his hand across his brow.

"I think everyone knows by now to expect nothing more," Dany quipped and Robb grinned at her.

"I'm starving," Jon said then.

"Aye," Robb agreed, "surely dinner will be out by now"

"I would expect so," Dany said, "Serra! Are you joining us?!" she called out to a girl stood a little way away from them.

The younger girl nodded shyly and wandered over slightly apprehensively. Dany smiled widely at her and took her arm as she joined them, walking in step with her towards the keep. Serra was Loral's daughter and Dany thought of her as a little sister. Loral had been as good as a mother to her since the day she had been born, and even when she married Jory Cassel and moved out of the keep she still came to her every day. Dany loved her immensely and she loved her children Serra and Joren as well. Serra was only fifteen and Dany knew well enough why she was currently so quiet at her side when she would usually be so chatty. It was because Jon was around. Everyone in Winterfell knew that the young girl was completely infatuated with him, everyone it seemed except Jon himself.

* * *

><p>Ned was tense, Catelyn could see how stiffly he was lying in bed as she readied herself, brushing her hair through as she sat in front of her vanity. She sighed heavily when she was done and moved to the bed, climbing in beside him and snuggling herself immediately at his side. She was somewhat comforted when his own arms came around her but she could still feel how tense he was as she wrapped herself around him.<p>

"What is it my love?" she asked him and it was his turn to sigh.

"This visit … it's putting me on edge," he confessed and she tightened her hold on him.

"What are you worried about?" she questioned, although she had a good idea.

"Dany … Jon … what he's going to ask of me," Ned confessed.

"You can always say no," she told him again and his arms tightened around him.

"I know," he breathed and she felt his lips kiss her hair, "but he will still be here … around them"

"He cannot suspect a thing about Jon," she said certainly, "and he knows about Dany"

"I know," he said again but she could still hear the tone of worry in his voice.

"Perhaps we should keep them out of sight as much as possible?" she suggested then, lifting her head to meet his eyes.

"Perhaps," he agreed heavily and she knew he wasn't happy with her suggestion.

She wasn't at all happy with it herself. She knew that Dany would understand, the girl might even be glad of it, Catelyn knew she could hardly be relishing the thought of coming face to face with Robert. Jon would be hurt though, she could almost imagine the look of hurt that would cross his face when she told him. She had to tell him herself but it pained her that she wouldn't be able to explain why. Of course she could make up some excuse about not wanting to insult the Queen – it was well known of course that Robert had countless bastards, something his wife wouldn't want to be reminded of.

"He'll understand," Ned said then, seeing the conflicted look in his wife's eyes.

"I hope so," she said sadly, leaning her head back down against his chest.

"He will," Ned promised her and she let herself believe him, her eyes growing heavy as she lay so contentedly in her husband's embrace.

When her breaths evened out Ned knew that she had fallen asleep and he breathed a satisfied sigh against the top of her head. He wished he could be as easily placated and close his eyes in a peaceful sleep. There was too much raging around his head though and he didn't seem to be able to sort any of it out. Dany he was worried for but he knew she would more than likely be happy to stay well out of Robert's way – he only hoped the King wouldn't show too much interest in her. Jon was another matter, he was terrified of Robert meeting his eyes and recognising him for who he truly was. There was no reason for him to, he knew that if he was being honest. He thanked the Gods that Jon so favoured his mother and that Lyanna and himself had looked so alike. Jon looked like his son, and as far as everyone was concerned he _was _his son.

Only Catelyn knew the truth and he couldn't help but smile as he thought of the beautiful, loving wife that was laying so contentedly in his arms. He had never wanted anyone but her, she was more than enough for him, far more than he felt he deserved. It pained him that she was in turmoil over Jon but she was right, the best thing to do was to keep him out of sight as much as possible. He knew that Catelyn would insist on telling him herself and he knew how hard it would be for her. She loved Jon as much as any of her own. Jon had always known that she was not his mother but she acted the part and Ned knew that he thought of her as his mother. When he was five he had tripped over in the courtyard and ripped the skin from his knees. He had screamed and screamed and it was Catelyn that he had wanted, only she had been able to calm him down enough that he would let the Maester look at his injury.

Catelyn had rocked him in her arms then as the wounds were cleaned up and bandaged and he had hiccoughed in her embrace and called her mother. It had been an innocent slip from a young boy who was in need of comfort but it nearly broke Catelyn's heart. She had gently reminded him that she was not his mother and had somehow managed to keep herself composed until Jon was fixed up and had been put to bed. She broke down once she was alone with Ned though, she had cried and cried and cried and he could find no words to soothe her. Jon might not be her son but she loved him just as fiercely as she did her true children. Ned was glad that her devotion to him meant that Jon had rarely asked about his real mother. He had been curious as a child but as he grew towards manhood he mentioned her less and less. He was more than content for Catelyn to play the role, he had never wanted for a mother's love because he already had it.

* * *

><p><em>The King's Road<em>

* * *

><p>Cersei couldn't sleep. Jaime may have distracted her for a time but he was gone now and she was alone in the vast bed, the space on the other side of her empty and cold. Just like her marriage, she thought wryly, a bitter smile gracing her lips. They would be at Winterfell soon enough. She had never visited the North before. She had never wanted to and she still didn't want to. The choice wasn't hers though it was her drunken fool of a husband's. He was determined to have Ned Stark as his Hand and what Robert wanted Robert got. Well, almost all, she thought with another small smile as she thought of her beautiful golden haired children.<p>

She had never planned it to be that way, she had planned on loving Robert, on being an attentive and a devoted Queen and wife. It had been him who had spoiled it. He had crushed all her hopes and dreams on their wedding night, coming drunk to her bed and forcing his body atop hers. His weight had almost squeezed the life from her as pain throbbed between her legs. When she closed her eyes she could still feel it, the way he had pounded into her over and over as she lay there in agony, tears streaming from her eyes and blood dripping down her thighs. That pain had been nothing though compared with the pain of him whispering that woman's name in her ear as he came to his climax and spilled himself inside her.

He came every night after that and she lay there and let him assault her body over and over again. He never whispered that name again but he could not erase the memory of it. He didn't even try. Cersei had done her best to love him, sometimes, a light would shine from him and sometimes it would be directed towards her. Like when she told him she was with child for the first time. He had stopped coming to her bed then and she hadn't minded it at all. It didn't matter that he didn't come at night because he was so attentive during the day. In those months that she grew bigger and bigger with child she almost deluded herself into thinking that he loved her too. That he had forgotten Lyanna Stark, the dead woman that he pined for and finally realised that he had a living, loving Queen by his side who was _real_.

She kept deluding herself, so giddy and pleased with herself when she delivered him a son, black-haired and squalling as he came from her body. Robert had been beside himself with glee, he had showered gifts and kind words on her and cooed over the tiny baby. Her heart swelled until it was fit to burst. Then it did. It burst the day she went to lift her boy from his cradle and felt him hot and sweating under her touch. For three days he clung on and for three days she sat by his side and prayed. Robert sat with her and they said nothing, she was glad he was there though and she could only imagine that he was happy she was too. When the final breath left his tiny body Robert flew into a rage, he beat his knuckles bloody against the stone walls before he crushed her into his arms.

It hurt. Gods it hurt so much but part of her hoped that their shared tragedy would bring them closer together. She had been wrong. Robert didn't seek comfort with her he sought it between the legs of his whores and she retreated in on herself, her love for him slowly turning to hate. The day they buried her son was the day she finally buried her heart far from the reach of Robert Baratheon.


	3. The King's Request

**A/N: **New chapter!

Got some guests to thank again first.

**Guest#1: **Sorry the idea of a Robb/Dany pairing is so unappealing for you. Hopefully it won't put you off the story because that's just one little part of it!

**Guest#2: **A much more positive reaction to Robb/Dany. Glad you like the pairing but you might have to be patient for them to get together.

**Guest#3: **Thank you so much for such a long and detailed review. I really enjoyed reading your thoughts on the story so far and I'm so glad that you're enjoying it. All I will say with regard to your last few points is that certain fates will change! ;)

**Guest#4: **Your wish is my command! But you might have to wait a while for it to happen!

Right! Onwards with the story, here's the new chapter and I hope you all enjoy it.

Please let me know, thoughts as always are very much appreciated.

:)

* * *

><p><strong>The King's Request<strong>

* * *

><p><em>Winterfell<em>

* * *

><p>Bran saw them first as he peered over the rooftops, he grinned widely at the procession of people that were trickling down the road towards Winterfell. He could see the stag banners fluttering and the carriage coming into sight as he turned his eyes from the road and pulled himself up to his feet. He balanced carefully along the rooftops, easily clambering down onto the lower turrets and roofs before dropping down to his feet, unfortunately landing right in front of his mother.<p>

"Brandon Stark!" she exclaimed and he instantly flushed, his direwolf whining behind his mother.

"The King is here!" he burst out then, hoping what he had seen would distract her from scolding him.

"Then get to the keep and call them out," she told him and he scampered off as fast as he could, his wolf scurrying behind him; "And no more climbing!" she shouted after him.

He grinned to himself as he made his way up the steps, calling out into the entrance hall that the King had almost arrived. His news spread fast and it wasn't long before everyone was in action, Bran escaped the madness and went back out into the courtyard to wait for the rest of his family to assemble. Sansa was already there, her hand toying with her hair as she looked towards the main gate where the Royal procession would soon be entering. His mother walked towards them then with Jon, she was speaking urgently to him and he had a scowl on his face. Bran thought his mother looked almost upset when Jon moved away from her and went to stand with Theon further back in the crowd. She quickly disguised her emotions then and smiled at him as his father, Robb and Rickon made their way down the steps of the keep.

"Where is Arya?" his mother hissed exasperatedly then as she looked down the line of them.

Sansa merely shrugged and his mother looked instantly furious. His father next to her didn't seem too bothered though as he kept his own eyes fixed on the gates. Rickon next to him was shuffling impatiently in contrast to Sansa on the other side of him who stood up tall and still. Bran couldn't wait until he grew up taller, he would love to be as tall as Robb was at his father's side, then perhaps he would be able to swing a sword as well as him.

He was distracted then by Arya running towards them with a helm atop her neatly braided hair, screaming out over and over that she had seen the King. Their father grabbed her at once and told her to calm herself, pulling the helm from her head and passing it back to Jory before shoving her gently down the line so she could claim her place. She shoved Bran rather harder than he thought was strictly necessary, telling him to move over and standing herself between him and Sansa. Their elder sister spared her a brief look of disdain before turning to the front again where hooves could be heard approaching.

Ned swallowed hard as the King's men and banners came into sight and he felt Catelyn take his hand a squeeze it gently after a moment. Robb on the other side of him seemed to stand up a little straighter and Ned allowed his lips to turn up; the boys had all been disgruntled about having to shave and it seemed Robb was trying to compensate for his lack of a beard by being as tall as he possibly could. A boy he could only describe as Lannister rode into view then, his fine clothing and regal stature told Ned that he could only be Prince Joffrey.

Sansa too noticed him and he seemed to have noticed her, twitching his lips up at her as his eyes fell on her. She could feel the blush rise in her cheeks as she let her own lips curve up into a responding smile. Robb bristled at her side as he noticed the interaction between his little sister and the preening boy he could only guess was the heir to the throne. He, Jon and Theon had already decided that they would teach the boy a lesson in the tiltyard, having heard stories that he was an utter prick. Humiliation was what a haughty looking child like him needed, and Robb was even more eager to dish it out to him now that he had seen the way he looked at Sansa. Before he could nudge her and pull her attention from the golden haired prince a larger figure came into view and all those assembled moved at once to follow his father's lead.

As one Winterfell seemed to kneel as King Robert came into view, hauling himself down from his horse and stamping his way towards those who were knelt before him. When he stopped in front of Ned he stared down at him for a moment before he gestured with his hand for him to rise. As Ned rose the other's followed suit and those assembled all seemed to hold their breath as the King and their Lord contemplated one another.

"You've got fat," the King spat at Ned then and Catelyn raised her eyebrows despite herself.

Ned simply looked Robert up and down before raising his own brows and quirking his lips. His old friend let out a tirade of raucous laughter then which Ned joined in with before they embraced one another like brothers.

"Where the bloody hell have you been?" Robert demanded as they pulled apart.

"Keeping the North in order for you your Grace," Ned responded and the King smiled wryly before turning his attention to Catelyn.

"Cat!" he drawled out and she smiled at him, dropping into a short curtsey.

"Your Grace," she said warmly as she straightened up.

"It's good to see you, good to see you," Robert murmured at he crushed her into an embrace briefly before moving on down the line. "You must be Robb," he said and Robb nodded his head and brought a smile to his own lips as the beaming King grasped his hand tightly, "and what's your name?" he asked then, moving his attention to Sansa at his side.

"Sansa, your Grace," she answered him politely.

"You're a pretty one," he twinkled at her and she glowed at his praise as he moved on to Arya.

"And you are?" he inquired.

"Arya," she said, "your Grace," she added as Sansa nudged her and Robert chuckled.

"And you boy? You must be a knight!" he boomed as he took in Bran's appearance and he grinned.

"Bran your Grace, and I would love to be," Bran said eagerly.

"Well perhaps one day you shall be," the King smiled down on him, "and last … who are you?"

"Rickon your Grace," the smallest Stark child said, straining his neck up so he could look at the King.

"A fine lot," Robert finished, nodding his head, "a fine lot indeed … you should be proud Ned"

"I am," Ned confirmed, meeting the King's eyes.

The King merely nodded then as the carriage rolled into the courtyard, the doors opening to reveal a beautiful woman that everyone instantly recognised as the Queen; Cersei Lannister. She cast a judgemental eye around Winterfell before forcing a slight smile to her lips and approaching Ned, holding her hand out carelessly to him. He took it in his own and placed his lips carefully to the back of it.

"My Queen," he murmured and she somehow managed to let her smile widen more before turning her attention to his wife. Catelyn Stark was beautiful she supposed, despite the plain clothes she wore. It was a shame for her that her radiance had been hidden up here in the cold north, she would have done well further south. Still, this was her fate, just as Robert had been Cersei's. The woman smiled at her then and the Queen returned it, finding it came easier when she looked at her. Perhaps she could befriend the woman and get her to persuade her husband not to take the role of Hand. Still, Cersei thought as Catelyn pressed her own kiss to the back of her hand, if Catelyn Stark hated her husband even half as much as she hated Robert then likely she would be glad to see him gone.

"Take me to your crypts Ned, I would pay my respects," Robert snapped then.

"We have been riding a month my love," Cersei said smoothly, "surely the dead can wait?"

"Ned!" Robert called out sharply, ignoring his wife.

Ned looked at her apologetically then and she forced another smile for him. The last thing she needed from these people was pity. She glanced up at Jaime then and saw him surveying his surroundings with a look of disdain. He hated this place as much as she did and that at least comforted her a little. She swept her eyes across the Stark family then and along the rows and rows of people stood behind them, searching for any hint of blonde that would reveal the Targaryen girl to her. She was curious about Daenerys, she wondered if she had escaped her cursed blood and grown up free of madness. She wondered if the North had broken her as surely as it had no doubt broken Catelyn Stark.

As the Queen's eyes scanned the crowd Dany shifted uncomfortably between Theon and Jon. They both noticed her movement and as one moved to step slightly in front of her to obscure her from view. She was so small that between them and Robb standing in front of her she was completely shielded from the Queen's searching stare. There had been one point when the King had greeted Robb and Sansa that Dany had frozen in fear, sure that if his eyes moved just a fraction then they would land on her. It seemed her had only had eyes for the Stark family though and she was glad of it. He may notice her at the feast tonight but for now at least she could rest easy as he was safely down in the crypts with Lord Stark.

* * *

><p>Ned and Robert walked side by side in silence down passed the rows and rows of tombs that lined the crypts of Winterfell. For hundreds of years Stark men had been buried down here, there was only one woman in the crypts and it was she that Ned and the King were seeking out. They came to a halt as one as they reached her imaged, Ned's eyes sliding to Robert as the King's own stared at the carved stone figure of the woman that he had so desperately loved.<p>

"Did you have to put her down here … in this dark, depressing pit?" Robert snarled.

"This is where she belongs, this is her home," Ned told him calmly.

"She belonged with me," he said possessively and Ned said nothing.

This was what he had been afraid of, Robert getting all caught up in the past and causing guilt to rise up in Ned. How could he ever explain to Robert that Lyanna hadn't wanted him? That she had willingly broken their betrothal to run away with Rhaegar Targaryen? That she had carried his child and died bringing him into the world?

He couldn't. He couldn't then and he most certainly couldn't now.

"In my dreams I kill that bastard every night," Robert growled then.

"It's done … he's dead and gone, the Targaryen's are finished," Ned said quietly.

"Not quite," Robert said just as quietly, "how is your ward? The girl?"

"She's well," Ned said carefully.

"She as mad as her father?" he asked.

"She's not mad at all, she is a gracious and polite girl," Ned said and Robert grunted in response.

"Good," he finally huffed, "I need you Ned"

"Your Grace …" Ned began.

"I need you to come and be my Hand … we won the Iron Throne together, we should rule the Kingdom's together, like it was meant to be," Robert said, meeting his eyes.

"I am honoured," Ned managed to stutter out before he dropped to his knees.

"Get up Ned," he grunted, "it's no honour"

"Surely … someone else …" Ned tried.

"I can't trust anyone else, I'm surrounded by fucking Lannister's … I wouldn't ask you if I didn't need you Ned, I know what I'm asking you to leave," he said, his tone softer now.

Ned said nothing as he rose back to his feet and he met Robert's steely blue gaze as his old friend stared back at him. It was the last thing he wanted, to leave Winterfell, the North, his family … Cat. He couldn't imagine not curling up in bed with her every night, holding her in his arms as they both drifted off to sleep. He couldn't imagine not watching Robb and Jon sparring in the tiltyard, neither of them able to best the other. He couldn't imagine not helping Bran correct his archery stance as he determined to hit dead centre on the board. If he left here he would miss the day he finally managed it, he would miss seeing the look of sheer glee in his eyes the same way it had shone from Robb and Jon when they had done it. He would miss seeing Sansa and Arya arguing over something ridiculous, his elder daughter no doubt outraged at the mud that coated her little sister's dress. He would miss showing Rickon how to hold a sword and master horse riding. He would miss everything. How could Robert ask him this?

"You don't have to give me your answer now," the man himself said then, "just promise me you will think about it"

Ned managed to nod then and Robert clapped his shoulder before he turned to lead the way back through the crypts and back up to the fading sunlight.

* * *

><p>Theon pulled a serving girl down into his lap as the feasting went on, no doubt he would be rewarded with a hard stare from Lady Stark if she caught him but thankfully she seemed otherwise engaged as she chattered to the Queen. The girl on his lap giggled then as he slid his hand under her skirts, and brushed her neck lightly with his lips. Before his hand could travel any further up her thigh an older woman, no doubt her senior in rank barked at her that she had work to be doing. The girl made to slide from his knee at once but Theon held her back for a moment and murmured in her ear; "find me later," he breathed and she giggled again, flushing slightly before nodding her head and he finally let her slide from his lap.<p>

He turned to top up his flagon of ale then and watched her progress across the hall as she dodged the wandering hands of other drunken men. Theon smirked slightly, he would have fun with her later. He turned his attention to Robb then who he noticed was staring longingly at the other side of the hall. Theon didn't need to ask to know what his friend was staring at and he sighed heavily. Robb needed to stop pining for her, they were not destined for one another and if he carried on letting his feelings grow then both of them would only end up getting hurt.

"You need to stop," he said quietly and Robb turned his eyes to him.

"Stop what?" Robb asked but Theon saw the flash of guilt cross his features.

"You're the heir of the North, of Winterfell," Theon told him.

"I am aware of that," Robb said calmly, taking a long drink from his own flagon.

"Then act like it," he said sharply.

"What do you mean?" Robb snapped back.

"Stop mooning over her, you know you can never have her, not as your wife at any rate and you're far too honourable to take her as a lover," Theon told him.

"Shut up," Robb snarled.

"I'm only telling you because I'm your friend … she's a ward no more," he said.

"I know," Robb said bitterly.

"Good," Theon nodded, "now drink up and cast your eyes over those southern beauties"

Robb tried to smile then and brought his flagon obligingly back to his lips. He tried to let his eyes wander over the women that Theon had nodded out to him but they kept sliding back of their own accord to Dany. He knew he was being foolish, being infatuated with her would do him no good because Theon was right, she would never be considered as a match for him. Her name was a disgraced one and no matter how highly his father thought of her there would be no way that he would consent to her one day being the Lady of Winterfell. The King would disapprove for a start, so would the North no doubt. Robb sometimes wished he was the second son. Maybe then he would at least have a chance at persuading his parents to approve Dany as a match.

He sighed heavily then and Theon patted him on the back in a brotherly fashion. Sometimes he wished he could be more like his friend, Theon had had countless women; he was handsome and carefree and had never had to worry about strong feelings creeping up on him. Theon bed women as easily as he shot dead centre on the archery board. And given that he never missed that was saying something. Robb imagined the King could give him a run for his money though as he watched him grab at a serving girl and pull her into his arms, planting a kiss on her lips before she could protest. Not that she would protest, he was the King and King's did whatever they pleased. Robb couldn't believe he was so open with it though, cavorting with another woman under the watchful eye of his Queen. He glanced up towards the high table then and saw his mother looking awkward at the exchange, hurriedly trying to catch the woman sat beside her up into conversation.

She needn't have bothered, Robb thought, it looked to him like the Queen had already seen the behaviour of her husband and her smooth expression didn't falter. He could only imagine that she had seen it all before on countless occasions.

* * *

><p>Jon grinned as he caught sight of his uncle Benjen sliding in through the doors of the hall. He had been miserable most of the night, Lady Stark had seated him at the table furthest away from the high table and the honoured guests. He knew why she'd done it, she had explained it to him before the King had arrived and had apologised over and over. She hadn't wanted to snub him he knew that but it still hurt that he couldn't go across and at least chat with his siblings. He was sat with people he barely knew and they paid little or no attention to him.<p>

When Benjen walked in though he stood up from the table at once and approached him, his uncle grinning back at him.

"Uncle Benjen!" he greeted happily and the man pulled him into a fierce embrace.

"What are you doing all the way back here?" his uncle chuckled as he pulled away.

"Lady Stark didn't want to insult the Queen," he explained and Benjen nodded.

"How are you lad?" Benjen asked him then, clapping his shoulder.

"Good," he nodded, "and how's the Wall?"

"Still standing," Benjen chuckled, "have you seen your father?"

"Over there with Ser Rodrik," Jon nodded towards his direction.

"I'll catch up to you later," Benjen said then, clapping Jon on the shoulder again before moving passed him.

He made his way through the throng of people, managing to pick up a flagon of ale from a serving girl along the way, taking a deep draught from it as he approached his elder brother. When he reached him he clapped a heavy hand on his shoulder and Ned turned at once, his usual grim expression breaking into an almost child-like grin when he set his eyes on his little brother.

"You're late," he commented as they embraced firmly for a moment.

"You know me, the Maester always used to scold me for tardiness," Benjen grinned and Ned chuckled.

"Right enough," he agreed, taking a drink from his own ale.

"This must be costing a pretty penny … what's the occasion?" Benjen asked him.

"Robert wants me to be his new Hand," Ned told him, the grim expression back on his face.

"There's an honour brother," he said with raised brows.

"An honour I could do without," Ned muttered.

"You made your decision?" Benjen inquired and he shook his head.

"Not yet," he said, "how's the Wall? Still standing?"

"Aye," Benjen grinned, "heard you caught a deserter"

"Aye," Ned nodded grimly, "full of tales of the walkers, complete madness"

"If you say so," Benjen said just as grimly.

"You're not telling me you'd believe it?" Ned asked him, his eyes widening.

"Winter is coming," he told him, "and things beyond the Wall are stirring"

"The walkers though Benjen?" Ned scoffed, "come now"

"I only know that fewer and fewer rangers are coming back," Benjen told him.

"Wildlings surely," Ned said dismissively.

"Aye perhaps," Benjen agreed, "but they're losing numbers too"

"Good," Ned said and Benjen couldn't help but grin again.

He raised his flagon back to his lips and thought he ought to ask Ned again about going to King's Landing. The thought of his brother leaving the North made him feel uneasy. Up here he had nothing to worry about but the cold and the odd deserter from the Night's Watch or the odd group of Wildlings that managed to scale the Wall. Down in the Capitol he would be surrounded by dangers and he knew that most of them would likely be concealed. Benjen didn't like it one bit. He had never been south and he never would. Not after what had happened to the rest of his family. He shuddered slightly then and prayed to the Gods that he would not lose Ned to that snake pit. Before he could say anything to caution his brother though he felt a hand slap his back and turned to see Robb. He embraced the lad fiercely before pulling away to study him.

"Gods lad you've grown," he chuckled, "how many name days have you had now?"

"Eighteen," Robb told him with a grin and he shook his head in disbelief.

"A man grown then," Benjen said with a smile.

"Still green though," Ned said affectionately and Robb smiled.

"Best it stay that way," Benjen said, "war's done enough damage to this family"

"Aye," Ned agreed, "right enough"

"To the Stark's," he said then, raising his flagon.

"The Stark's," Ned and Robb echoed, bashing their own against his.

The three of them drank deeply then before a cry from Sansa had them turned towards where she had been seated. Robb couldn't help but laugh at the horrified expression on Sansa's face as he saw it spattered with pudding. He knew without looking down the table that Arya had flung it at her. All around people were laughing as Jeyne Poole attempted to help Sansa clean up her face. Robb's laughter cut off though as he glanced towards the top table and caught his mother's eye. She gave him a stern, pointed look and he moved away from his father and uncle at once, catching Arya up under her arms and carrying her from the hall.

Benjen and Ned exchanged a grin as they watched Arya protesting against Robb as he practically had to drag her out of the hall.

"She reminds me of Lia," Benjen said softly.

"Aye," Ned agreed, "she does that"

He glanced uneasily towards Robert then and noted with some relief that he was otherwise engaged with a serving girl. His eyes slid to Jon then who was getting up from the table and heading towards the doors. Ned hoped he was going to bed, Dany had already slipped from the hall and he had been glad to see her go. He had been on edge all night wondering if Robert would notice one or both of them. Thankfully he seemed more interested in feasting, drinking and whoring to take any notice of anyone else. He glanced at Benjen then who was watching the King with a rather disgusted look on his face and tried not to let his mind wander to Lyanna.

He had thought about her too much today already.

_Promise me Ned._

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **I'll try and get another one up before the weekend.

Hope you enjoyed - any thoughts would be great.

:)


	4. Wings of Warning

**A/N: **It's new chapter time! There's a notable change from canon in this one and I hope you all like it ;)

Just a few guest thank you's to do first!

**queeninthenorth: **Thank you so much, I'm glad you like it - there will be more changes throughout and I hope you continue to enjoy and that you like the way the characters are written!

**elaine451: **Certain things will be canon, other things will change (see this chapter for an example!) I'm glad you've been sucked in and I hope you enjoy this update!

Now, on with the chapter. Please drop me a review and let me know what you think!

:)

* * *

><p><strong>Wings of Warning<strong>

* * *

><p><em>Winterfell<em>

* * *

><p>Tyrion groaned in pain as he moved his body a mere fraction to the side. He could barely remember the day before, only that it had involved a colossal amount of wine and more than a few firm pairs of tits. He looked up and saw Jaime smirking at him then and it quite possibly made him feel even worse than he already did. Why in the name of the Gods had he agreed to go with them on this stupid hunting trip? They were saddling up the horses now and likely they would be leaving soon. Tyrion wasn't sure if he could even stand up right now let alone seat a horse. Jaime approached him then, his smirk widening as he took in his little brother's pale face and bloodshot eyes.<p>

"I do hope you have fun today," Jaime drawled and Tyrion narrowed his eyes at him.

"Are you not joining us dear brother?" he asked him.

"Gods no," Jaime almost shuddered, "I am gladly taking to opportunity to have a day away from that great oaf we call 'King'"

"And how will you spend your day instead?" Tyrion pondered in mock wonderment.

"In peace," Jaime told him.

_In bed with our sweet sister more like, _Tyrion thought to himself, forcing a smile to his face for his brother before he could say such a thing out loud.

The men called out that they were leaving then and Tyrion groaned, somehow managing to hop down from his perch atop a hay bale and amble slowly towards them. Jaime watched him go with a satisfied smile. Almost the whole of Winterfell were going on the hunt, he was one of the few men that were staying behind. Even Ned Stark's bastard was allowed to go with them. Jaime thought it pathetic that Catelyn Stark even let the boy live in Winterfell let alone within the keep itself. Gods she must be a down-trodden woman, not like his sweet sister. He had no doubt at all that Cersei would murder Robert, King or not, if he even dared move one of his countless bastards into the Red Keep. The thought made him smile even more widely and he sauntered back towards the keep where he knew his sweet sister was waiting.

There was no one around as he climbed up the steps and along the hallways to the chambers that she was inhabiting. She had been moaning about them to him since they arrived. They were not big enough. They were not grand enough. They were not royal enough. Jaime didn't care, so long as they had a bed he could fuck her on they were good enough for him. He knocked smartly on the door when he came before it and she answered after a moment.

"What do you want?" she hissed at him through the small gap.

"You," he smirked, his voice low and full of lust.

"Jaime," she snapped, "the children are here"

"Send them away to amuse themselves then," he rolled his eyes.

"We cannot risk it … not here," she told him, shaking her head furiously.

"Everyone has gone on the hunt," he argued in an irritated whisper.

"Not here," she said firmly.

"Somewhere more deserted then?" he suggested, stepping closer to the gap and stroking a finger down her cheek.

"Jaime …" she said softly and he knew she was giving in.

"I know just the place …" he tempted her and he saw it in her eyes that he had her.

* * *

><p>Dany swept her eyes around the courtyard as she made her way down the steps, never before had she seen Winterfell so deserted. It was strange without the men around. Some women had gone on the hunt to so they could prepare a spread of food to feed the men when they grew tired of hunting. She looked across to see Rickon's poor direwolf chained up by the kennels then looking mournful. He had given up howling – it didn't get him anywhere. If only Rickon were old enough to be able to train him properly then he wouldn't have to spend the majority of his days on a short chain. A thought struck her then and she looked around again and saw Bran's wolf sniffing around one of the walls. She knew at once then that the boy must be climbing and set off at a brisk pace around the back of the keep and towards the old tower.<p>

She saw Bran as she rounded the corner, expertly manoeuvring himself across the highest heights of Winterfell. Gods she wished he wouldn't, even the sight of him so high up made her feel sick. Lady Stark had cautioned him time and time again but he still insisted on doing it. If she caught him while the Royal family were visiting though he would be in for Seven Hells worth of trouble. With that in mind she walked across the grass until she was directly beneath him and waited until he was secure on a ledge before shouting up so she didn't startle him into falling.

"Bran!"

Several feet above her she saw him look down from his ledge with a massive grin on his face. She tried not to let her own lips twitch up at the sheer look of joy on his face. Bran loved climbing, imagining that he was on some noble adventure as a knight. That was what he was determined to be when he was a man grown but Lord Stark had to constantly remind him that he needed to spend more time in the tiltyard and less climbing walls if he was to be made a Ser.

"Come down before your mother sees you!"

"Just a while longer!" he protested and Dany shook her head.

"Come down now! I have an idea how we can spend the afternoon!" she shouted up.

"How?!" he asked and she heard the curiosity in his tone.

"I thought we could teach Shaggy Dog and your wolf some tricks!" she told him.

"What kind of tricks?!" he questioned.

"Tricks that mean they don't need to be chained up!" she called.

"My wolf isn't chained up!" he countered.

"Do you think he likes seeing his brother chained up where he can't play with him?!" she persuaded.

Bran went quiet then and she knew he was thinking hard about what she had said. He didn't move from his ledge though and after a while she grew impatient, squinting up at him and seeing that he hadn't budged.

"Please Bran!" she coaxed, "You know seeing you so high up makes me nauseous!"

"Alright!" she heard him huff and she grinned widely, seeing him already beginning to descend down from the wall.

* * *

><p><em>The Wolfswood<em>

* * *

><p>Theon hit the deer square in the flank with his arrow and it dropped to the floor with a heavy thud. The King cheered loudly and pressed a golden dragon into his hand and Theon was delighted. Robb shook his head at the look on his friends face, he knew exactly how that money would be spent and it would mean Theon spending a lot more time at the brothel. He was infatuated with Ros at the moment, or more specifically, infatuated with what she did to him between the sheets.<p>

"Not bad hey?" Theon smirked at him then and Robb smiled back.

"I don't suppose that will last you long," he quipped.

"Should buy me a weeks-worth of time with Ros," Theon winked, "she'll not be able to walk when I'm done with her"

"Must you always be such a letch?" Jon piped up then.

"It's not lecherous if they want it," he winked again.

Robb laughed at that but Jon merely rolled his eyes and looked away in disgust. People seemed to be moving back towards the clearing for lunch now as several of the King's mean went forward to truss up the deer that Theon had felled. Jon might have known Theon would do the best on this outing, he and Robb preferred the sword but Theon was a dead shot with a bow. The deer hadn't stood a chance. And now, with his reward, neither did the poor women at the brothel.

Jon couldn't honestly say he had ever got on well with Theon. He was three years older than him and Robb but he refused to act it, he was almost childlike in his behaviour and Jon couldn't stand his attitude towards women. Theon was the sort of man to put a bastard in a woman and leave her to deal with the consequences. He thought nothing of taking a girls innocence or spending night after night in the brothel. In his eyes women were there for the pleasure of men and served no other purpose. The only girls he showed any kind of regard to were Sansa, Arya and Dany. They were the only ones who didn't find themselves at the mercy of his wandering eyes and hands and for that at least Jon was grateful.

* * *

><p>Ned thanked the procession of serving girls who came to lay the food out on the makeshift table that had been set up for him and Robert to dine at. Robert had already pulled an immense amount onto his own plate and was heartily tucking into a chicken leg, tearing at the tender white flesh as Ned took a long drink of wine and tried not to think about the inevitable question that would come his way. The King slapped the final girl heartily on the bottom as she turned and walked away from them and Ned sent her what he hoped had been an apologetic smile. The last thing he needed was for the women of Winterfell to think he had become a letch in the presence of the King.<p>

"A fine day Ned … a fine day," Robert said contentedly and Ned managed another smile.

"Perfect for the hunt," Ned agreed.

"That Greyjoy ward of yours is quite the shot, he doesn't give you any trouble does he?" he asked.

"No," Ned shook his head, "he's a good lad … gives the women plenty of trouble mind"

"Seems like someone round here needs to," the King chuckled, "most seem far too like you"

"Is that such a bad thing?" Ned asked with another small smile.

"You're honourable Ned, can't fault that, which is why I need you," Robert said. _Here we go_.

"You know I said I'd think on it," he replied.

"I don't know who I can trust in that damn snake pit," Robert almost snarled.

"I'd know even less than you," Ned said.

"I know you're loathe to leave your cold North and your warm wife …" he started.

"But still you ask me to," Ned interrupted.

"I never expected to … never wanted to, but I can ask no one else," Robert insisted.

"You have two brothers," Ned reminded him.

"Renly would bankrupt me in a week … and Stannis … well I'd be allowed to have no fucking fun at all if he were Hand," he snorted and Ned couldn't help but smile.

"Perhaps you have too much fun," Ned suggested as the King eyed up another young woman.

"Perhaps you don't have enough," Robert countered.

"Cat is enough for me," he said firmly.

"What about your bastard's mother?" Robert asked and he instantly stiffened.

"One mistake I have paid for forever," Ned said.

"Oh … come now Ned … it was war, Cat is a reasonable woman," he said.

"Aye she is," Ned agreed, "and thank the Gods she forgave me"

"I know you don't want to leave her," Robert said quietly then.

"No I don't," Ned agreed.

"But I swear to you Ned … I wouldn't ask if I wasn't desperate," he implored him.

Ned said nothing, he merely sighed heavily before turning his attention back to his meal. He wasn't really hungry, he just picked at the food and sipped at the wine to give him something to do. Robert watched him for a time but his eyes soon wandered, his mouth calling for more wine as he ate and drank heartily. Ned barely recognised him as the man who had successfully overthrown the Targaryen dynasty. Gods if he had to fight for his throne again now he had no doubt that he would lose. Maybe he really did need him.

* * *

><p><em>Winterfell<em>

* * *

><p>"It was beyond foolish Jaime! That boy could have caught us!" Cersei accused.<p>

"But he didn't did he?" Jaime countered at once and she glared at him.

"No more," she said with finality and he sighed in exasperation.

"Cersei …" he started but she was in no mood to hear his persuasions.

"Is this a game to you?" she questioned him incredulously, "do you think this is a game? Our lives are at stake, my children's lives are at stake!"

"Only if we're caught," he soothed her.

"Which we almost were!" she snapped, "No more Jaime … not until we're safely back"

"Cersei …" he started again.

"No more!" she said with finality and he sighed in defeat.

He turned to leave then and she made no move to stop him. Irritation coursed through him as he pounded down the hallways of the keep. Gods he couldn't stand Winterfell. Couldn't stand the North. Up here Cersei became as cold as it did. Of course she had her moments at the Capitol but a few soothing words and insistent touches always brought her around to his way of thinking. She was far too tense and serious that was his sister's problem. What she failed to realise was that he would kill anyone who discovered their secret. Including her disgusting husband.

Jaime still hated that Robert Baratheon had been the first man inside his sweet sister. Of course he himself had been the first to kiss her, to touch her, to please her. When she married that poor excuse for a King though she had told him that it could no longer go on, she wouldn't even permit him to hold her hand. That all changed when her first boy died. The day they buried him she came to Jaime in the dead of night and he had buried himself in her. He had been the first man to make her come. He took some satisfaction in that at least. Cersei was _his_, they shared everything; they were two halves of the same whole. They only worked when they were together. Sometimes she seemed to forget that but he never would.

He stood on the steps of the keep then and scanned his eyes around the courtyard, his attention caught by the glint of silvery blonde over by the kennels. How Ned Stark had managed to convince Robert to hand over the Targaryen girl into his hands was still a mystery to Jaime. The King had ridden off to Dragonstone all those years ago the dispatch the two remaining threats to his throne. Elia's children were already dead and Jaime had had no doubt that those of Aerys' that remained would soon meet the same end. They hadn't though. The boy had escaped and Robert had been persuaded to let the girl come north and become a ward of the Stark's.

Jaime hadn't seen much of her, much less spoken to her. As much as he would love to stand before her and see her reaction to him; the man who had killed her father, he didn't dare because he knew how incensed Ned Stark would be. And if he was incensed that Robert would be beyond reason and Jaime's job was difficult enough as it was. With that in mind he stayed away from the girl. There was no harm in watching her though as she interacted with the two youngest Stark children. They appeared to be trying to train those blasted direwolves. Jaime thought they were wasting their time. Direwolves were not good pets in his opinion. It would have been better to put them down before they grew big enough to turn on their 'masters'.

* * *

><p>Dany looked up at the feeling that someone was watching her and her eyes locked for a moment with a green pair that didn't look away at once. It was only after they did though and the man moved away that she realised with a jolt who she had been looking at. Jaime Lannister. Kingslayer they called him because he had been the one who killed her father. She wondered if he revelled in the nickname or if he found it tiresome after all these years? She knew that her father had been a tyrant who needed to be overthrown but Jaime Lannister had sworn to protect him. How must that have felt? To be stabbed in the back by someone you trusted with your life. Dany shuddered then at the thought. There were not many who she trusted, no one besides the Stark's really. Loral too of course. She was always wary though, if history had taught her anything it was that she didn't have many friends at all in this world.<p>

She pulled her mind away from troubling thoughts then as the sound of hundreds of hooves approaching grew louder and louder before a stream of riders flowed in through the top end of the courtyard. Bran and Rickon sprang up at her side, an excited look in their eyes as they looked towards the returning hunting party – no doubt wondering what they would be feasting on tonight. Dany didn't move until the King was safely dismounted and on his way into the keep with Lord Stark. She approached where Robb stood with Jon and Theon then and brought a smile to her face that she had no doubt Robb would see through. He said nothing though, he wouldn't, not in the company of others. Now he would let her carry on with her façade, later though if he got her alone he would needle the truth out of her.

"So what is for the feast tonight?" she asked brightly.

"Deer," Theon told her with a grin.

"Some pigeons," Jon added.

"A pheasant or two," Robb said.

"Plenty then," she smiled.

"Maybe not with the King around," Theon said quietly and Robb snorted.

"You shouldn't say such things!" Jon scolded but she saw his lips quirk up slightly.

"Lighten up Snow," Theon told him, shoving his shoulder.

"Aye," Robb agreed, "come on, best we get ourselves presentable for this feast"

"Yes," Dany smiled slyly, "you don't want your mother after you again"

It was his turn to shove her shoulder then, although he did it far more lightly than Theon had done to Jon, a twinkle in his eyes as he had smiled down on her. She wished her heart would stop. It seemed to be accelerating rapidly as she met his gaze. Thankfully he looked away after a moment and handed the reins of his horse to a passing stable boy. The two exchanged some friendly words and while Robb was distracted Theon seized the opportunity to offer Dany his arm. She took it happily and they began their journey into the keep, neither noticing Robb's disgruntled scowl when he turned back to see their retreating backs.

"What did you get up to today?" Theon asked her as they made their way towards the steps.

"I helped Bran and Rickon with their wolves," she told him.

"Did you get anywhere?" he questioned with a raised brow.

"Further than I thought," she smiled, "they seem incredibly intelligent"

"Compared with the company you usually keep I don't doubt it," he teased.

"Are you including yourself in that Greyjoy?" she returned at once and he laughed.

"You got me there," he said.

"You walked right into it," she smiled and he nodded his agreement.

"I shall see you at the feast then," he said as they came to a stop in the entrance hall.

"Do come and join me in my shadowy corner," she said with a roll of her eyes.

"I'd be delighted my Lady," he said sarcastically before grinning at her and setting off towards his rooms.

* * *

><p>Catelyn had just snuggled comfortably down into Ned's warm embrace when a knock sounded at the door. She sighed irritably and made to shift away from him but he held her fast and called for their visitor to come in. The door opened then and Catelyn lifted her head up to see who had come in, Ned turning his own head beneath her. It was Maester Luwin and he looked troubled.<p>

"My apologies my Lord, my Lady," he bowed shortly then.

"What's happened?" Ned asked him.

"I've received a raven, from your sister my Lady," he said and Catelyn shifted up at once, pulling herself out of bed and approaching him.

"This is from the Eyrie," she said in confusion as she examined the seal, "why in the name of the Gods would Lysa be there?"

"What does she say?" Ned asked her, pulling himself out of bed as he saw his wife's face start to pale as she read through the letter.

Catelyn didn't answer at once, her eyes carefully reading each line again, trying to make sense of what she was seeing. She bit down on her lip then and felt Ned come to stand behind her, his arms coming to rest on the top of her arms and she finally managed to lift her eyes from the parchment to see the Maester staring at her in concern. Seeing his gaze fixed on her snapped her mind out of its confusion and she marched at once to the fire and tossed the letter onto it, watching as the edges blackened and curled until there was nothing left but ashes.

"Cat?" Ned said then, concern and slight frustration evident in his tone.

"She says Jon Arryn was murdered," she told him, her eyes darting between him and the Maester.

"She's grief-stricken," Ned said at once, "she doesn't know what she's saying …"

"Ned!" he said sharply, "She has fled the Capitol! She has risked her life and the life of her boy by sending this letter – she wouldn't have risked it if she wasn't certain!"

Ned paled then as he met the insistent stare of his wife. She believed what Lysa had written to her in that letter and he couldn't help but be convinced at the conviction she was conveying with that piercing blue stare. This was worrying. Who in the name of the Gods would want to kill Jon Arryn? And more importantly, why?

"Who?" he managed then and Catelyn glanced uneasily between him and the Maester again.

"The Lannister's," she told him quietly and Maester Luwin's eyes widened.

"The Queen's family … Cat …" Ned said, beginning to shake his head.

"She's certain Ned!" she insisted.

"If this is true then the King could be in danger," Maester Luwin said then and Ned met his eyes, hearing the underlying meaning.

"No," Catelyn said at once, seeing the look, "no … that does not mean you go Ned! If they killed the last Hand …"

"My Lady … Lord Stark may be the only man who can save the King," the Maester implored.

"And put himself at risk! Ned, Brandon went to the Capitol … your father went … please …" she almost begged him and he clenched his fists slightly.

"You may be the only one who can uncover this plot my Lord," the Maester said quietly.

"Ned …" Catelyn started again.

"Would you leave us Maester Luwin?" Ned finally spoke then.

"Of course," he bowed shortly to both of them before leaving the room.

Ned turned slowly to face his wife then and she was already shaking her head at him, her eyes filling with tears. He didn't want to hear her protests nor her pleading for him to stay, he didn't think he would be able to cope with it. Instead he crossed to her before she could say a word, crushing her in an embrace and bending his head to kiss her before she could open her mouth. He could feel her resistance but he persisted and eventually she relaxed in his arms and kissed him back willingly, her own arms coming tight around him as if she could keep him in place with her embrace. When he pulled back she could see his decision in his eyes and she shook her head slightly.

"Can I say nothing?" she questioned him softly.

"I'm going Cat … the children will come too," he told her and her eyes widened.

"Ned …" she started.

"All but Robb … he will be Lord in my absence. Jon and Dany will stay of course," he went on.

"Rickon?!" she gasped in horror.

"I suppose he is a little young …" Ned conceded.

"He needs to be with me," she insisted.

"Alright," he agreed, "but Bran and the girls are coming with me."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **So Bran wasn't pushed ... and him going to King's Landing might just change a few other things ;)

Hope you enjoyed!

More as soon as I can.

:)


	5. Comings and Goings

**A/N:** A new chapter for you lovely people! A few guests to thank first of all though.

**expert93: **Glad you thought the twist was interesting and since you were eager for the next chapter here it is - hope you enjoy!

**queeninthenorth:** Well, maybe 'subtle' was the wrong word, but if I said there was a massive change coming people may have guessed ;) Glad you think it's unpredictable (that's the aim of the game!) and to answer your question, I have a lot more up my sleeve so I hope you stay excited and enjoy it all! :)

Right, onwards with the chapter. Let me know what you all think of it!

:)

* * *

><p><strong>Comings and Goings<strong>

* * *

><p><em>Winterfell<em>

* * *

><p>Sansa felt deliriously happy as she bustled around her rooms, gathering up all her best dresses and hair clasps and jewels. She didn't have many jewels but she hoped that they would be enough for her to look like a proper Lady when she arrived at the Capitol. Honestly she could not wait to go south and see how grand life was at the Royal court. There were whispers around Winterfell that her father and the King had been talking about her and Prince Joffrey being betrothed. She hoped the rumours were true; the Prince was so handsome and had been so attentive to her, asking her to dance and barely taking his eyes from her at the feasts. Being Joffrey's wife would make her Queen someday and then someday she could be as beautiful and regal looking as Queen Cersei.<p>

Her heart felt like it would burst. She could not _wait _to get to the Capitol. It would be wonderful she knew it would be. Even her friend Jeyne would be able to go with her and enjoy it all with her as her father was part of her own father's company. Everything would be just perfect. There would be feasting and dancing and tourneys and all manner of wonderful things. She pulled her best dress flush against her body then and scrutinized herself in the mirror. Gods she hoped she was pretty enough for Joffrey to want her as his wife, as his future Queen. Oh Gods, what if he thought her ugly?

She was pulled from that distressing thought then when a knock sounded on her door and she lay the dress carefully down on the bed before crossing to open it. It was her mother on the other side and she smiled widely for her, Catelyn's own smile looked slightly forced in return but Sansa didn't notice in her own extreme happiness.

"Are you almost packed?" Catelyn asked her, forcing her voice to stay bright.

"Almost," she said breathlessly, "I cannot wait mother truly! Do you think my gowns will be fine enough?"

"Of course they are!" Catelyn assured her at once.

"Is it true? What they are saying about me and Prince Joffrey?" Sansa asked her then.

"Your father is considering it," her mother told her carefully.

"He will say yes though won't he mother?" she questioned her eagerly.

"I don't know … you will have to wait and see," Catelyn forced another smile.

"I'm sure he will, why would he not?" she practically sang, turning back towards her packing.

Catelyn crossed to help her silently, glancing at her daughter uneasily as she carefully folded up dress after dress. Sansa was beyond excited and Catelyn wished she could be pleased. She honestly hoped her daughter would be happy in the south, that she would thrive. Arya was less than impressed with having to go and honestly Catelyn was almost glad of it. Her youngest daughter would be suspicious of the Capitol and she could only see that as a good thing after the word she had received from Lysa. She silently prayed that Sansa wouldn't be sucked into the snake's nest that she feared King's Landing truly was behind the façade of grandness.

Before Catelyn could think up the right words to try and put Sansa on her guard hooves could be heard clattering into the courtyard and her daughter was darting to the window at once to look down into the yard.

"Who is it?" she asked curiously.

"It will be Ser Ralf, from Karhold … he is an old friend of your father's, he is to be steward here in the absence of Vayon Poole," Catelyn told her.

"Is the woman with him his wife?" Sansa questioned then.

"No, that will be his daughter," Catelyn said, "his wife passed many years ago."

* * *

><p>Theon was at the stables making sure Lord Stark and his children's horses were properly saddled up when he was distracted by the arrival of people in the courtyard. He finished tightly strapping up Bran's horse and wandered out into the courtyard, his eyes immediately caught by the girl who was being greeted by Lord Stark. She was the most utterly delicious thing he had ever set eyes on. Petite and curved in all the right places with thick, glossy, golden brown curls tumbling down her back. Her smiling lips were full and just begging to be kissed. She was like no creature he had ever seen before. He could scarce believe she was from the North. She even outstripped the stunning beauties that had come with the Royal court.<p>

Without a second thought Theon was hurrying over towards where Lord Stark was chatting amiably with a man who was beaming widely at the side of the beautiful girl. Theon's stomach twisted uncomfortably and he prayed to all the Gods that he had ever heard of that the man was not her husband. If he was then he would have to try an awful lot harder to get her into his bed, because he would get her into his bed – he had to. Lord Stark turned to smile at him then as he noticed his approach and Theon returned it, turning his attention away from the delectable girl.

"Are the horses saddled?" he asked Theon.

"Aye my Lord," Theon told him, his eyes sliding back to the girl, finding hers already on him.

"This is Ser Ralf," Ned introduced, "he will be steward here in my absence"

"A pleasure Ser," Theon bowed shortly.

"This is my ward, Theon Greyjoy," Ned said then.

"Well met," Ser Ralf smiled at him and Theon returned it, wondering if one of them would mention the girl.

"And his daughter Adele," Ned said then, gesturing to her.

"My Lady," Theon said, reaching for her hand as she extended her own, placing a kiss to the back of it before meeting her eyes.

"Adele is fine," she smiled and he returned it.

"Theon," he nodded, "would you care for me to show you around Winterfell?"

"That would be most kind of you," she said.

"With your father's permission of course," Theon said quickly, looking to Ser Ralf.

"Of course, Lord Stark and I have business to attend to … best Adele is kept busy," he smiled.

"Shall we?" Theon said then, offering her his arm.

"Where first?" she asked brightly, taking it happily.

* * *

><p>Jon knocked softly on the door and heard his sister call moodily for him to come in after a moment. He chuckled lightly to himself as he pushed the door open and saw her sat sulking on the edge of her bed. Arya did not want to go to the Capitol but their father had insisted. It would be good for her to see new places; that was what he had said. Arya wasn't convinced though and Jon thought in unlikely that she ever would be.<p>

"I've got something for you," he said with a smile then but her expression didn't change.

"What?" she asked, completely stone faced.

"I'll tell you if you promise to smile," he said teasingly and she snorted.

"I don't want to go … I'm going to be stuck with proper Sansa swooning over smug Prince Joffrey … I don't want to go," she said firmly.

"You'll have Bran too," he reminded her but her expression still didn't soften.

"He's no better, going on about tourneys and learning to be a knight from the Kingsguard," she almost spat.

"You know you might enjoy it if you give it a chance," he suggested.

"No," she said firmly and he had to try very hard not to laugh at her.

"Fine …" he sighed, "do you want your gift or not"

"Alright," she said sulkily and he grinned, moving his hands from behind his back.

Arya stared when she saw what he had been hiding behind him, swallowing hard as she looked from his amused face to the blade in his hands. She got up off the bed then, her eyes wide as she approached him, her hand reached out to touch the sword. It was real steel. Not the stupid blunt tourney swords that they used out in the tiltyard but a _real_ sword that could cut through a man and kill him. She swallowed again then and looked up at Jon.

"For me?" she asked him, not quite believing it was real.

"For you," he confirmed with a wide smile that she couldn't help but return.

"Thank you Jon," she said wonderingly then as she considered the blade.

"Do you think you might be able to manage a smile now?" he grinned and she couldn't help but return it, thrilled that he had had such a gift made for her.

Before Jon could say anything else Arya had placed the sword down on her bed and launched herself into his arms. He held her back tightly and tried not to think of how long it would be before he set eyes on his little sister again. Winterfell would be different indeed.

"How about a name for it," Jon said then when they finally broke apart.

"A name?" she repeated with a frown, scrutinizing her new sword.

"All the best swords have names," he told her and she nodded her agreement, thinking hard.

"Needle," she finally said with a satisfied expression on her face and Jon grinned again.

* * *

><p>When Jon left Arya he wandered back down into the entrance hall, the main doors flung open so he could see out into the courtyard. Robb was out there and so he made his way out too so he could at least speak with his brother before the Royal party left. He would be shoved at the back with Theon and Dany again when it came time for them to depart. Robb smiled at him as he saw him approach and Jon returned it before he caught sight of Theon with a girl he'd never seen before.<p>

"Was she with the Royal party?" he asked Robb then and his brother grinned.

"Pretty isn't she? No, she's Ser Ralf's daughter Adele," Robb told him.

"I see Theon has taken it upon himself to show her around," Jon said knowingly.

"He has been rather _attentive _towards her," Robb agreed meaningfully.

"Someone should warn her about him," Jon said then and Robb nodded.

"Maybe," he said, "but it'll not be me, besides, I'm sure she's clever enough to work him out"

"I would hope so," Jon said, his eyes moving back to them again.

Pretty, Robb had called her. Jon thought that that was rather an understatement as he watched her walking arm in arm with Theon as he told her something or another that had her laughing heartily. He pulled his eyes away from them then as Lady Stark came out of the keep with his father right behind her. The girls came next, Arya looking rather less miserable than she had done before but still rather apprehensive. Rickon looked as though he had been crying and held on tightly to his mother's hand as they descended the steps. Bran was no-where to be seen but his wolf came skittering across the yard a few moments later, Bran following swiftly behind. Jon was willing to bet anything that Bran had been climbing the rooftops one last time and he imagined Lady Stark thought the same as she looked at him sternly as he approached her.

Ned came forwards then and Jon swallowed hard, wondering exactly how he was supposed to say farewell to his father in front of all these people. Robb didn't seem to have any worries as he stepped forward and was immediately crushed into his father's arms. They embraced for a long moment, Ned murmuring something to Robb that Jon couldn't make out. When they broke apart though he noticed his brother looking rather less composed than usual, his blue eyes shining slightly. Jon met his father's eyes then that were so like his and before he could open his mouth and say anything he had come towards him and pulled him into an embrace exactly as he had done with Robb.

"Look after yourself," Ned told him fiercely.

"I will," Jon said, "and you … be careful in the Capitol"

"It'll not be forever," Ned said then as he pulled away.

"Good," Jon smiled.

"I'm proud of you Jon," he said quietly then and Jon could only nod, emotion stinging his own eyes then as he managed to nod slightly.

Ned smiled then, he could see the emotion etched across Jon's face and he clapped him and then Robb heartily on one shoulder before turning and walking back to where his horse was saddled and waiting. He only had one goodbye left to say and he was dreading it. Theon and Dany offered him smiles from where they were skulking under the blacksmiths awning out of the way and he raised his hand in farewell and twitched his owns lips up for them. It cost him a lot of effort as his mind was firmly fixed on his wife who he could tell was trying not to break down in tears as she embraced each of her departing children in turn.

"You keep one another safe," she told them then.

"Yes mother," Sansa replied.

"Make sure you keep up with your lessons with the Septa," she went on.

"We will mother," it was Sansa who promised it.

"And you behave yourself," she said to Arya then and the younger girl grinned slightly.

"You know I can't promise that," Arya said and Catelyn managed a real smile.

"Well just don't get into too much trouble then," she almost laughed.

"I won't," Arya promised.

"And you," she turned to Bran, "no more climbing!"

"No mother," he said, not quite meeting her eyes.

"Brandon …" she began sternly.

"I won't mother I promise," he said then, looking into her eyes.

"Good," she smiled again, "now on your horses all of you, we're holding everyone up"

Ned watched as she ushered them all towards their mounts, stepping back slightly as they all hauled themselves up, her hands clenching in the fabric of her dress so hard her knuckles turned white. He hated doing this to her but it would be good for at least some of their children to experience life outside the North.

"I love you all," she told them then and they returned her affection, all of them now looking troubled as they sensed their mother's upset.

"Cat," Ned said then and she turned to him and almost let the tears fall.

"Promise me Ned," she whispered, "like you did before …"

"I promise Cat," he told her, coming forward and grasping the top of her arms lightly, "I promise I will come home and that I will be true to you"

"I love you," she told him then and he pulled her into his arms.

He didn't care who saw them. He was not ashamed that he loved his wife and he was not ashamed that he wanted to hold her one more time, to kiss her one more time. He did kiss her then, he kissed her like they were still those love-struck young things they had been when they first came to Winterfell because that's how she made him feel. With Cat he was always that young man because she held his heart in her hands and he held hers. The Gods only knew how it would feel to be apart from her for so long. He had missed her when he rode out to war all those years ago and that was before love had grown and before they had had so many years and so many children between them. It would be harder this time. It would be a thousand times worse. When he pulled away he looked into her beautiful eyes for the longest time – memorizing them.

"I love you," he said quietly then and she pressed her lips together to stop the tears from escaping.

"I will be right here waiting for you," she promised and he nodded, swallowing hard.

"I have to go," he finally said, releasing her from their embrace.

"I know," she said sadly and he managed one last smile for her before he turned and walked to his horse.

* * *

><p>Dinner that night was quiet and sombre. The atmosphere in the great hall made it feel as though someone had died and no one was speaking much. Normal seating arrangements had been resumed now so Dany and Jon were back at the high table as usual. Theon had been there, seating himself purposely between Robb and Dany and not missing the look that crossed Robb's face when he did so. It was for Robb's own good though, that's why he had done it. Adele had pulled him away from his quest to keep his friend's eyes from Dany though when she had got up to dance with one of the squire's after the plates had been cleared away and more wine brought out. He didn't want anyone else staking a claim on her, he had seen her first and it would be him who had her. She didn't seem to mind the way he almost rudely interrupted her dance and took her hand in his instead, his other coming to rest on her slim waist.<p>

It took everything Theon had to not let that hand wander lower but he knew that her father was there in the hall and he wasn't yet sure how she would react. He would have to get to know her a little better before he dared make a move. He would make a move though. How could he not? She was the most delicious little creature the North had likely ever seen. Likely most of the remaining men of Winterfell would love a taste of her but there was no way Theon would let that happen. He scowled slightly as he looked towards the high table and saw that Robb had moved down a place and was now talking intently to Dany. She was twisting a lock of her hair around her fingers and gazing into Robb's eyes and he just wanted to go up there and bash their heads together. She was just as bad as him. They both needed to get a grip on themselves before it was too late.

"Is something wrong?" Adele asked him then and he immediately changed his frown to a smile.

"Of course not," he said smoothly but she didn't look placated.

"You're not tired of dancing with me are you?" she questioned, her head cocked to one side.

"I don't think any man could ever tire of you," he told her and she blushed.

He smiled more widely at her then and pulled her body a fraction closer to his. She didn't protest or stiffen at his movement, remaining relaxed under his touch. Her hand was the perfect kind of warmth in his and the feel of her other resting on his shoulder soothed his mind away from worrying about Robb and Dany. He needn't worry about them. Both of them were far too proper to ever do anything they shouldn't even if they did pluck up the courage to admit their feelings for one another. No, he would let them get on with whatever they were doing and focus on Adele. She was a much more pleasing thought.

* * *

><p>It wasn't until Catelyn left the dining hall to climb up the steps to bed that the reality of Ned and three of her children leaving finally began to dawn properly on her. Dany had seen to Rickon and Robb was more than capable of looking after himself now – after all he was now the Lord of Winterfell. Therefore she had not had the usual fight to get Arya and Bran to go to bed, both of them arguing with her about how unfair it was that Sansa was allowed to stay up later than them. Instead she had merely finished her meal and pretended to watch the dancers for a while. After Jon left she had risen up from her own seat and swiftly left the hall. Robb had been caught up talking to Theon and Ser Rodrik and hadn't noticed her departing. Her son was far too perceptive, he would have known at once why she was leaving and she couldn't stand to see the pity in his eyes.<p>

As she walked down the hallway towards her chambers she began to wonder whether or not she should have stayed in the hall and had a few more glasses of wine. It would have at least have helped her on her way to sleep. As it was she didn't think she would be able to close her eyes tonight. Getting ready for bed and climbing into bed alone was not something she had never done. Ned had often ridden out to some of the smaller holds of the North during the time they had been here at Winterfell. It was different this time though as she slipped between the cold sheets. This time he wouldn't be back in a few days or a few weeks at the most. This time he would likely be gone for years and her children with him. Sansa may never come back, not if Ned relented and consented to her marrying the Prince. Somehow she thought that he probably would be swayed by the King eventually and her heart stabbed at the thought. Would she even be able to attend the wedding?

Gods she hoped she would be able to and she hoped it wouldn't be too soon. Sansa was only fifteen and she was still a young girl at heart, shielded up here in the North from the cruelties of the world. Her daughter was a gentle and mild creature and she hoped that she would be allowed to remain as such and not become cold and bitter as she suspected Queen Cersei was. Not that she could much blame the woman; Robert's actions whilst at Winterfell had been deplorable and the Queen had sat and suffered it in silence. It was clear there was no love between then, Robert scarcely spared her a glance and was openly dismissive of her. She did not want that fate for Sansa, nor for any of her children. All she could do was hope that Prince Joffrey was nothing like his father.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **I admit I had a little cackle to myself when I wrote that last sentence.

Anyway, thoughts?

:)


	6. True Colours

**A/N: **Hey guys! New chapter for you. Just one thing I did want to mention (someone drew my attention to it in a review) and that is the ages of the characters. You may have noticed they're older than they would be in canon and I just wanted you to know that it is intentional if anyone else is wondering. I just think that GoT is such a mature setting and I feel a little uncomfortable (especially with a character like Sansa) writing them in such settings at such a young age so I've progressed them all on a few years. Hope it doesn't bother anyone!

Also, just a quick guest reviewer to reply to!

**queeninthenorth: **How to answer without giving major spoilers to the story? Answer is I really can't! Rest assured though I've considered all the things that you were worries about and I have a plan (at least I hope I do!) Glad you're enjoying anyway and hope you haven't had too many sleepless nights!

Spreading our wings a little further in this chapter guys, do let me know your thoughts!

:)

* * *

><p><strong>True Colours<strong>

* * *

><p><em>The King's Road<em>

* * *

><p>Bran and Arya were clashing swords furiously with one another in their secluded little space they had found behind one of the barns the footmen were resting in. Their father was with the King and they were certain he wouldn't catch them. Even if he did the swords were only blunted tourney ones, Arya had hidden Needle down at the bottom of her trunk and didn't intend to get it back out again until they got to King's Landing. Their father had told them that they would each get their own room in the Hand's Tower so she would be able to practice there. For now sparring with Bran would have to do, even though he was a year younger than her and had not been practicing for long. He was quick though, even if his speed did make him trip over his feet on occasion.<p>

"Rest!" Bran called out then and Arya stepped back from him, breathing hard as she lowered her blunted blade.

"Had enough?" she panted out.

"Just need a drink," he said, crossing over to where they had left some water skins in the shade.

"Not a bad idea," Arya agreed, following him over and taking the skin he offered her.

They slumped down onto the grass then and sipped in silence for a moment, both of them still breathing rather more quickly than usual. Nymeria and Bran's wolf, who he had still yet to name, came wandering over then now that their masters had stopped sparring and sniffed hopefully around the tree as if hoping there was food to be found.

"How long to King's Landing?" Bran asked her then.

"Another three weeks most like," Arya replied and his eyes widened.

"How many leagues is that?" he asked wonderingly and she shrugged.

"Thousands most likely, perhaps you could ask the Maester?" she suggested.

"Or you could ask Septa Mordane," he said.

"And confess I wasn't listening when she no doubt taught us? No thank you," she huffed and he grinned.

"Likely the Maester taught us as well," he confessed then as she returned his grin.

"Who cares anyway? Shall we get back to practice?" she questioned him and he nodded his agreement.

They had barely clashed swords twice before Arya spotted Joffrey sauntering around the barn from the corner of her eye. She was instantly on edge. He had refused to take part in any of the sparring in the tiltyard at Winterfell, only watching the others with an odd look in his eye. When Bran and Tommen had started a bout he had suggested that they used real steel. Robb had told him in a deadpan voice that real steel was not to be used by any but men and asked whether or not he was man enough to go a round with him using real steel. Joffrey had shut up then but Arya had seen him quietly seething, his eyes narrowed towards her brother for the duration of the morning.

"What's this?" Joffrey sneered then.

"What does it look like?" Arya snapped back at him as she and Bran ceased their spar.

"Not much fun … not without a real blade," Joffrey said and she narrowed her eyes.

"Robb says that we shouldn't use real blades until we're older and understand the damage they can do," Bran piped up then.

"Really?" Joffrey said, raising his eyebrows, "are you so stupid in the North that you don't know what damage a sword can do?"

Bran flushed then and Arya was immediately furious with Joffrey. Nymeria obviously sensed her irritation as she skulked to her side and let out a soft growl. Arya though she saw the look of fear cross Joffrey's features then but it was quickly replaced with his usual sneer.

"You ought to watch it," he snarled, pulling his own sword from his belt.

"Nymeria no," Arya said softly as she began to growl even more loudly.

"Best teach your wolf some manners you little bitch else I put her in her place," Joffrey hissed at her.

"What's going on?" Sansa's voice rang out then and they turned to see her walking towards them with Lady on a leash.

"I don't know why you like him so much Sansa!" Arya snapped, "Come on Bran, let's go and find Jory and father"

Bran didn't need telling twice and he and Arya almost ran back towards the barn and where hundreds of tents were being pitched around it for those who were unfortunate enough not to have a solid roof above their heads. Sansa watched them go, frowning slightly as she did, only turning back to consider Joffrey when they had disappeared from her sight. She hadn't heard much of the conversation but she had heard enough to know that Joffrey had been cruel to Bran and she did not like it one bit. She knew that Arya could be rude and would often goad people but Bran never did and she was horrified that Joffrey would be so cruel to him.

"My Lady?" he said questioningly then.

"What did my brother do to you?" she asked him then and she saw him flush pink slightly.

"It was just a jape my Lady," he said.

"I'm not certain that Bran found it very funny your Grace," she dared to say then and his hand clenched slightly behind his back.

"Forgive me my Lady, perhaps southern humour is different, I meant no offence. You can rest assured I will apologise to him at dinner," he told her.

"Oh," it was her turn to flush, "well … that is most gracious of you … I …"

"Would you care to walk with me down to the riverbank?" he asked then and her blush heightened.

"Oh … well, yes … I would your Grace," she smiled at him.

He offered his arm then and she took it happily, they were not even halfway down to the river before she forgot all about the altercation she had witnessed.

* * *

><p><em>Winterfell <em>

* * *

><p>Jon was shining the tourney blades, only half concentrating on what he was doing as his gaze was firmly fixed on Theon and Adele over by the archery boards. Theon was clearly pretending to show Adele how best to shoot a bow and arrow but Jon knew better. He was clearly using it as an excuse to place his hands on her hips and the small of her back as he corrected her stance. Jon scowled, he hated the way Theon treated women; Adele had only just got here and he was already pawing at her. The poor girl clearly had no idea of his reputation and no doubt assumed that he was just being friendly. Jon repressed a snort then – Theon was never merely friendly.<p>

"Can I help?" Serra asked him then and he snapped his eyes from Theon and Adele.

"What?" he said in a slightly dazed voice.

"I just wondered … if I could help," the girl asked him slightly shyly as he met her eyes.

"No you're fine, I'm almost finished," he said.

"Oh," she said in a small voice, her disappointment lost on Jon as he continued on.

"Thank you though," he finally said and she blushed slightly.

"It's no matter," she told him before she practically fled to the other side of the tiltyard.

Ser Rodrik rounded the corner then and Jon saw him raise his hand to beckon Theon to him. As Theon walked over to the old knight Jon though hard for a few moments before placing the blade he had been shining back in the rack and approaching Adele who was drawing back the string of the bow over and over as she squinted at the target. It seemed Theon had yet to see fit to trust her with any actual arrows. He cleared his throat when he reached her and she turned in slight surprise before sending a smile his way.

"Can I help you with something Jon?" she asked him.

"Actually … I had hoped to help you," he said.

"Oh, that's kind of you … but Theon is already helping," she smiled again.

"Actually I hoped to help you _with _Theon," he said and her brow creased slightly.

"I don't understand," she said.

"You're new at Winterfell, you have not yet heard of his reputation," he told her lowly.

"Reputation?" she repeated, her frown deepening.

"With women," he said and she suddenly understood what he was telling her.

"Oh," she said, disappointment evident in her tone.

"I'm sorry," he said, "I would just hate for you to be _compromised_"

"I would compromise myself for no man," she said coldly then.

"Of course not … I didn't mean …" he began.

"It's fine," she stopped him, "I know you didn't … now if you'll excuse me …"

She didn't wait for him to reply, she merely handed him the bow before she turned and walked purposely back towards the keep. Jon glanced towards Theon then who was still caught up with Ser Rodrik before placing the bow back where it belonged and returned to the sword racks, best he get them back in the armoury before any rain came.

* * *

><p>Robb was barely aware of anything at dinner as he gazed across the hall to where Dany was sat with Loral and her children. She had been sitting with them more often than not since the others had left for the Capitol and it irritated him slightly. He liked her sat up with him at the high table but thinking that made him feel guilty. Jory had gone with his father's party and he knew that Loral and her children were missing him – they had never been parted before and it wasn't easy. He himself was missing his own father and his siblings but at least he had the running of Winterfell to keep his mind occupied during the day. It was a lot for him to take in but Maester Luwin, Ser Ralf and Ser Rodrik had been incredibly patient and encouraging of him. He could only hope that he would do a good job and not let them nor his family down.<p>

He blinked slightly stupidly then and pulled his eyes from Dany as Theon sat heavily in the chair next to him and growled out a string of curses under his breath. Robb sighed and turned to pour his friend a large flagon of strong ale which Theon picked up at once and drained in one. When he was done he slammed it down on the table and Robb refilled it and let him take a few gulps before he dared ask him what had put him in such a foul mood.

"What happened?" he asked.

"Adele," Theon seethed, his eyes narrowing as he looked towards the pretty girl who seemed to be determinedly avoiding his furious gaze.

"What has she done?" Robb frowned then, they had been getting on fine in the tiltyard earlier.

"She had completely changed, earlier she couldn't get enough of me and now she will barely speak to me nor look me in the eye," he spat out.

"Did you make an advance on her?" Robb questioned, his frown deepening.

"No," Theon sulked, taking another long drink, "never got the chance"

"Perhaps someone warned her about your reputation," Robb suggested then and he felt rather than saw Jon shifting uncomfortably on his other side.

"Damn it all," Theon growled, "I actually really liked her …"

"Sorry," Robb said but his friend didn't seem to have heard him as he drained his flagon again before bashing it down on the table and getting up to leave again.

Jon watched him go and saw Adele following his progress as well before she turned her attention back to her dining companions with a slightly thoughtful look on her face. Jon himself felt a slight twinge of guilt. He had never heard Theon admit to actually liking a girl before. Perhaps he had been too hasty in warning Adele off him? He dismissed it at once. Even if Theon liked her it didn't mean he wouldn't dishonour her. She had had a lucky escape.

"You told her didn't you?" Robb said quietly then.

"Someone had to," he said dismissively and his brother sighed.

"If Theon finds out …" Robb started.

"Are you going to tell him?" Jon almost snapped.

"Of course I'm not," he soothed him at once.

"Then he won't," Jon said with finality and Robb raised his own flagon to his lips and said no more.

He really did wish that Jon and Theon could at least try and find some common ground. Jon was his brother and Theon was as good as. He knew they were very different people and that Jon despised the way Theon was with women because of his own status as a bastard. Jon held honour above all else. Robb agreed with him but he didn't feel the same anger that Jon did towards Theon spending time in the brothel. It was Theon's choice and none of Robb's business. Jon seemed to take it personally though and Robb had given up trying to force them into activities where they had to speak to one another. It wasn't worth the time nor the effort.

* * *

><p><em>The King's Road<em>

* * *

><p>Cersei was irritated and beyond frustrated. She needed Jaime but he was nowhere to be found and so her pent up frustration would have to be worked out the only other way she knew how. It might cost her a bruise but if it stopped her feeling as though she would explode then it would be worth it. She hoped Robert wasn't with one of his whores as she pounded down the hallway of the inn, quaking serving girls squeaking and curtseying and scurrying away in her wake. Pathetic.<p>

She didn't bother knocking when she reached the room her pitiful excuse for a husband was staying in, flinging open the door and letting it bash against the wall was a far more effective way of announcing her presence. Robert looked up in surprise from where he was sat eating and drinking his was through a colossal amount of food and wine.

"What do you want?" he asked her gruffly as she kicked the door closed behind her.

"Does a wife need a reason to see her husband?" she countered in a falsely sweet voice that she knew didn't fool him in the slightest.

"When the wife is you and the husband is me then yes," he almost chuckled and she bestowed a wry smile on him. At least they both knew where they stood.

"I was bored," she told him then and he snorted.

"You must be to force yourself to endure my company," he said, "come on then, you may as well have a drink now you're here"

She took a few steps closer to him then. This wasn't going exactly how she thought it would but oddly she didn't mind. Robert poured her a healthy measure of red and handed it to her as she sat herself down in the chair opposite him. He seemed to consider her for a moment before he raised his glass to her. Surprised at the gesture she did the same.

"To a safe journey home," he stated.

"A safe journey," she echoed him and they clinked glasses before taking a long sip each.

"What do you really want?" he asked her then.

"Truth be told I came for a fight," she said honestly and he really did bark out a laugh.

"Changed your mind have you?" he questioned her and he lips twitched upwards.

"It's good wine," she stated, "I would hate to waste it by throwing it at the wall"

"You are rather good at that," he said and she almost managed a real smile.

"Why are you dining alone?" she asked him then and he sighed.

"Sick of the sight of the bloody lot of them," he growled and she took another sip of wine.

"Even Ned Stark?" she questioned him innocently and he narrowed his eyes slightly.

"He's dining with his children tonight," he told her and she nodded slowly in understanding.

"Have you spoken with him about his ward?" she asked him then and he met her eyes for a moment.

"Which one?" he asked slowly and she let her lip curl slightly.

"You know which one," she said.

"We spoke at Winterfell briefly," he told her dismissively.

"And?" she pressed.

"And he assures me she has been well brought up … she's not mad and she's no threat," he said.

"She's a Targaryen, of course she's a threat," she almost spat.

"Not so long as she's up there with the Stark's, they're loyal people," he said with finality.

"You're too soft on her," she told him.

"That's _my _decision," he said dangerously and she knew she had pushed him far enough.

"Of course it is," she said soothingly, "I was merely worried for our own children's legacy"

"Nothing will threaten it," he said, his tone more normal now.

"Good," she said simply, taking another sip, "it is not her that so concerns me as much as the whereabouts of her brother," she continued and he grunted.

"Aye," he agreed, "now that I fully intend to deal with as soon as we're back in the Capitol"

"Good," she said simply, "I'm glad you agree."

* * *

><p><em>Pentos<em>

* * *

><p>Illyrio could still hear the shouts and the threats in his head as he paced up and down in his solar. The meeting with the Gold Company had not gone well and he was beginning to wonder if he had made a mistake in allowing Viserys to stay here with him. It had been an alluring prospect at first, another potential heir to the Iron Throne in his grasp but Viserys proved volatile and prone to fits of temper. He would frequently rave on about <em>his <em>throne and how _he _would take it and see Westeros punished for the fates of his family. It was this insistence on it being his throne that stopped Illyrio mentioning any other option to him. Viserys was determined to be King but he had neither the ways nor the means. Illyrio had been setting him up with meetings with various sell sword companies. The men from the Gold Company had come this morning but it had not gone well at all. Illyrio had been embarrassed, Viserys would not be acquiring their services after his furious outbursts. As the men had left Illyrio had quietly suggested a more alluring prospect to them and they had gone with thanks and a few extra coin pressed into their palms.

Viserys was more trouble than he was worth. He should have listened to Varys and ignored the pleas of the beggar King. Curiosity had got the better of him though and now he was paying for it. With a sigh he stopped his pacing and snatched up a decanter of honeyed wine, pouring himself a generous measure. As he supped on the wine he thought hard. Viserys was a liability but perhaps there was a way of getting rid of him without killing him. He didn't like to kill people lest they suddenly become of use later on. People with bloodlines like Viserys' were a rare and valuable prospect no matter how deep madness may run in them. Thankfully it seemed he was the only Targaryen left that was possessed of it. He drained his wine then and set down the empty glass before striding purposely from the room before he changed his mind. Hopefully the man would have calmed down by now. He was not so sure though as he walked out into the hidden gardens at the back of his manse.

"Can you believe them?!" Viserys demanded incredulously as soon as he caught sight of him, "Refusing me! Me?! The rightful King of Westeros!"

"Doubtless they had their reasons your Grace," he said carefully.

"I care not for their reasons," Viserys spat, "I need an army, I want _my _throne!"

"And with the right timing and planning you will get it," Illyrio soothed him and he saw that the man's agitation was lifting somewhat.

"You have another idea?" he asked him, his voice calmer; his tone almost hungry.

"There is still your sister," Illyrio told him.

"A girl," he spat, "a pathetic girl who is kept a prisoner in northern wastelands"

"Not a prisoner, a _ward_," Illyrio stressed.

"There is no difference," Viserys said dismissively.

"There is a great difference, my sources tell me she is greatly loved by the Stark family," he said.

"So?!" Viserys demanded impatiently.

"So Lord Stark has just taken up the position as Hand of the King," Illyrio explained.

"Hand of the Usurper you mean!" he spat and Illyrio bowed his head in apology.

"Of course, forgive me … but my point is that there are secrets to be uncovered, ones that I am assured will mean the downfall of the Lannister's," Illyrio said.

"Truly?" Viserys questioned, finally looking interested.

"If they fall the usurper will be beyond weak," he told him and a hungry look gleamed in his violet eyes making him look almost inhuman.

"So what do you suggest?" Viserys asked.

"I suggest making contact with your sister, because when the time comes you can use her to wield her influence on the Stark's and get them to call their banners to your side," Illyrio answered.

"How many men do they have? Will it be enough?" he demanded shortly.

"They have near twenty thousand and could call on more from the Riverlands," Illyrio answered, "and with the Kingdom on its knees it should be more than enough."

* * *

><p><em>The Wall<em>

* * *

><p>The wind was bitingly cold as Benjen stepped off the lift. As he walked across the top of the Wall he could hear the clank of the mechanism in his ear as it was lowered back down to the base. It soon grew fainter and fainter as the sound was lost to the whistle of the howling wind. Gods it was cold. No snow was falling though thank the Gods, only mere specks of frost being swirled into the air from the top of the Wall. He walked more briskly towards his post, seeing the hulking outline of one of his brother's stood there just waiting for him to come and relieve him of his duty. As he grew closer the man turned and Benjen turned his lips up into a grim smile as he recognised him as Yoren.<p>

"Stark," the man greeted and Benjen nodded in response.

"Anything?" he asked him.

"Not a damn thing," Yoren said gruffly, "just like the night before and the night before that"

"We'll have to go out ranging again soon," he said, not sounding as though he was relishing the prospect in the slightest.

"Aye," Yoren agreed with him, "not me though"

"Oh?" Benjen asked him with a raise of his brows.

"The Old Bear's sending me to King's Landing for more recruits," he said and Benjen snorted.

"More thieves and rapists more than like," he said.

"Aye, more than like," Yoren agreed, "still … if it means going somewhere warmer for a few months I won't be complaining"

"You'll be welcomed at Winterfell on your way south," Benjen told him then.

"Good meal and a warm bed," Yoren sighed, "don't know why you ever left"

"Sometimes … neither do I," Benjen said wryly and his brother chuckled slightly.

"I'll leave you too it Stark," he said.

"Aye," Benjen sighed, looking out into the distance as the crunching of Yoren's retreating footsteps faded away.

Benjen let his eyes scan the night as he pulled his thick, black furs more tightly around him. There was no twitch of movement along the tree line nor further back towards the horizon. He could see no columns of smoke nor any flicker of light that would indicate a fire. He could hear nothing but the whistle of the wind in his ears as he stamped his feet heavily in his boots to stop them from going numb. At least if he was out ranging he would be on the move. He hated being stuck at the Wall standing on top of the great expanse of ice and staring out at nothing. He much preferred to be out there. He felt he was much more use out there. Something was happening, what he had told Ned was the truth. Winter was coming and it was bringing something with it. Something dark. He wanted more than anything to find out what it was so the warning could be sent out. Tales of the walkers had reached them, some wildlings that were less hostile to them had told many stories to the ranging parties that had been coming and going.

Benjen hadn't been sure whether to believe them at first, thinking that perhaps it was some jape the free folk were playing on the crows. Now though, now that more and more scouts were relaying the same tale he was starting to doubt his belief that it was no more than a jest. The scouts went far and wide. It would be unlikely indeed that the wildlings had all agreed on one story to tell all the men of the Night's Watch who came sniffing around. Leagues separated them, it would be nigh on impossible to concoct such a thing. It would take tremendous effort and as much as Benjen knew that the free folk enjoyed winding up the Night's Watch he couldn't believe that they would go to so much trouble when they had fears of their own about the coming winter to contend with. No. Something was happening and the sooner Benjen led men out there to find out what the better.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Thoughts my dears? I'll get another out as soon as I can!

:)


	7. Suspicions

**A/N:** A new chapter for you lovely people!

**queeninthenorth: **There will be more scenes from all of them and the spectrum will only get broader the further in we get. Glad Robb and Dany grew onyou! :)

Thoughts on this one would be awesome as ever!

:)

* * *

><p><strong>Suspicions<strong>

* * *

><p><em>King's Landing<em>

* * *

><p>"He said yes?" Cersei raised her eyebrows slightly at her husband.<p>

"Of course he said yes, makes bloody sense doesn't it woman?!" he snapped back and she sighed.

"Of course it does, have you spoken to Joff?" she asked him then, ignoring his tone.

"You're his mother, you tell him," he said impatiently before he stamped from the room giving her no chance to ask any more questions.

She sat back in her chair when he had gone and thought long and hard about what it would mean for her son and for her entire family now that he was betrothed to Sansa Stark. The girl was pretty enough and very bland. She would be easily moulded into something fit to be a wife and Queen. If she was as fertile as her mother then children wouldn't be a problem. Robert had said that Ned Stark had requested she be sixteen before they wed and her husband had agreed. Cersei was glad of it, it would give her plenty of time to bring Joffrey round to the idea and to bend Sansa Stark entirely to her own will. In fact, that was something she should really start immediately. She called for one of her ladies maids then and asked them to fetch the Stark girl to her. As she waited she thought about exactly what to say to the girl. It shouldn't be difficult to gain her trust; after all she was a naïve young girl in a new and exciting place and she would doubtless be ecstatic that the Queen of all people was showering her with attention.

Cersei painted on her best smile when her maid returned with Sansa trailing in her wake looking ever so slightly apprehensive. _Good_ she thought, _she would do well to stay apprehensive of me_.

"Sit down sweet girl," Cersei smiled even more widely then.

"Thank you your Grace," she curtseyed politely before sitting where Cersei had indicated.

"Would you care for some wine?" Cersei asked.

"No thank you your Grace," Sansa replied, her eyes darting around nervously.

"There is no need to be afraid sweet girl … I would merely like to spend some time with the beauty who is to marry my son," she said.

"Oh …" Sansa said, her words deserting her. She had no idea what to say to the Queen.

"Are you excited for the wedding?" Cersei asked her.

"I have not yet thought about it, father has only just told me of the betrothal," Sansa answered her.

"But you are pleased aren't you little dove?" she questioned.

"Of course your Grace!" the girl said eagerly, "I truly cannot wait to marry the Prince"

"And I cannot wait for you to become part of our family," Cersei lied.

* * *

><p>Ned swallowed hard before pushing open the door to the council chambers. There were only four other men in the room, two he recognised and two he did not. Renly came forwards at once and caught him in a brotherly embrace.<p>

"Renly," he greeted the King's youngest brother with a smile when he pulled away.

"It's been too long since I saw you Lord Stark," Renly grinned at him.

"Aye, too long by half," Ned agreed, his eyes sliding to the other man he recognised.

"Lord Stark," he greeted with a short bob of his head.

"Lord Baelish," Ned returned, his greeting not quite as warm as the one he had given Renly.

"And this is Grand Maester Pycelle," Littlefinger introduced and Ned nodded his greeting.

"Maester," he said evenly.

"Lord Stark," the old man returned, his voice quaking slightly.

"And I am Varys," the eunuch introduced himself unnecessarily, he may not have recognised him but Ned had heard plenty about the man.

"Shall we to business?" Littlefinger asked then.

"Are we not waiting for the King?" Ned returned with a slight frown.

"Robert doesn't trouble himself with the small matter of council meetings," Renly grinned at him.

"Of course not," Ned muttered, why was he even surprised?

He sat himself down then and the other men did the same around him. It felt odd being at the head of this strange table as he watched Littlefinger pull out several notes from a large tome. Ned tried not to look too overwhelmed as he glanced between the Maester who looked indifferent and Renly who reclined easily in his chair as though he had no care in the world. Ned wished he could look like that. As it was he was sat stiffly with his back straight and his fists clenched lightly on the table top as he waited for Littlefinger to begin.

"First thing's first," Littlefinger finally said, pushing a pin towards Ned, "that's yours now"

"Thank you," Ned said, not knowing what else to say as he pinned the hand to his doublet.

"Now … the tourney …" he started again.

"Tourney?" Ned interrupted at once.

"In honour of yourself Lord Stark, the Hand's tourney," Littlefinger elaborated.

"That's ridiculous, I don't need a tourney, let me see that," he gestured for the papers.

"Of course," Littlefinger said, handing them to him and watching Ned as he scanned through them, his frown deepening with every word.

"How can the crown even afford this?" he questioned incredulously.

"It can't," Renly said simply before either of the other men could say anything.

"The money will be found," Littlefinger said smoothly but Ned wasn't placated.

"It's an unnecessary expense," Ned argued.

"It's what the King has ordered and we will see it done," Varys said.

"We'll see about that," Ned said lowly, pushing his chair back before standing and stamping from the room.

* * *

><p>He pounded down the hallways towards Robert's chambers. He couldn't believe how stupid his friend was being. The crown was bankrupt. The only reason the Capitol was still functioning as it should was because it was borrowing extortionate amounts of gold from the Lannister's. Robert claimed he was surrounded by them and Ned wasn't surprised, they practically owned him. Jaime Lannister himself was guarding Robert's chambers when he approached and Ned nodded curtly to him.<p>

"Is he busy?" he asked shortly.

"I wouldn't go that far," Jaime drawled and he nodded again before pushing open the door.

"Ned!" Robert's booming voice greeted him at once.

"We need to talk," Ned said at once.

"Sounds serious," Robert frowned, "wine Ned?"

"No … thank you," he added.

"Suit yourself," Robert said gruffly, pouring himself a healthy measure.

"This tourney …" Ned started then.

"Aah! You've seen the plans!" Robert chuckled and Ned sighed heavily.

"It's ridiculous, you will have to borrow even more money from Tywin Lannister to fund it … it is a waste of coin," Ned insisted.

"Nonsense Ned!" he exclaimed and Ned tried not to roll his eyes with difficulty.

"If you want me to help run your Kingdoms then you need …" Ned began again.

"Tourney's happening Ned," Robert said with finality then, "whether you like it or not."

* * *

><p>Ned did his best to cut down on some of the more extravagant and expensive ideas for the tourney when he went back to the council chambers. Now it was set to be a much simpler affair but it was still costing far too much in Ned's opinion. Robert may as well throw the coin into the Blackwater. Still, there had been no reasoning with him and all that Ned could do now was try and arrange things as cheaply as possible. His head was pounding when the meeting was finally done and he stood up slowly, Renly, Varys and Littlefinger having already made their way briskly to the door. It was just him and Grand Maester Pycelle now and Ned decided to ask him about Jon Arryn as they rose up from their chairs.<p>

"You treated Jon Arryn?" he guessed.

"That's correct Lord Stark," the Maester replied.

"It was a fever was it not?" Ned asked.

"That's correct Lord Stark, burned right through him … nothing much I could do," he said.

"Did he say anything before he died?" Ned questioned.

"He did as a matter of fact … he said 'the seed is strong'," Pycelle told him.

"The seed is strong," Ned repeated in a slightly confused tone.

"Yes my Lord," he confirmed.

"And before that, did he come to you for any remedies?" Ned asked him.

"Not for remedies no," the Maester said and Ned frowned slightly.

"For something else?" Ned questioned then, hearing the tone the old man used.

"A book is all," he said.

"What book?" Ned asked.

"A very long, very dull book … the Gods know why he wanted it," Pycelle shook his head.

"I want that book," Ned said.

"My Lord …" he began.

"I would like you to bring me the book," Ned reiterated.

"Very well my Lord … I shall look for it," Pycelle said, bowing his head shortly before shuffling his way from the room.

Ned took a few calming breaths then before following him out. Something wasn't right about the Maester's behaviour but thinking of all the possible reasons for his reluctance was just making his head pound even more furiously. Enough thinking for one day, he decided he would go and spend some time with his children, no doubt they would be able to cheer him up. Sansa's rooms stood empty when he arrived at them though and he sighed heavily. No doubt she was somewhere with Jeyne Poole or Prince Joffrey. He still wasn't completely certain that he had done the right thing in agreeing to the match but his daughter was beside herself at the thought of being the Queen one day. In her mind everything would be fine clothes and tourneys and happiness and he could only hope that she got all that and more.

As he approached Arya's room he heard what sounded like the clashing of swords and his heart instantly seemed to stop in his chest, his steps quickening as he approached his youngest daughter's chambers. He didn't even knock, too terrified as to why he could hear such sounds from within her room. He barged right in and he didn't know whether to laugh in relief or scold them at once when he saw Arya and Bran sparring furiously with one another. It seemed to take them a moment to realise he was there and it was just the time he needed to return his heartbeat to normal. When they did notice him identical looks of guilt mingled with slight defiance adorned their features and he had to fight hard not to twitch his lips up in amusement.

"And what do you think you're doing?" he asked them.

"They're blunted," Bran said at once but he noticed Arya's eyes slide to her bed.

"This doesn't look blunted," he stated, crossing the room and picking up the sword.

"I don't use it with Bran!" Arya said at once and he turned his gaze on her.

"Where did you get it?" he asked her seriously.

"It was a gift," she told him and he sighed heavily.

"This is not a toy for a little girl," he said calmly and she looked murderous.

"I know that," she stated, her grip on the blunted tourney sword tightening.

"Do you even know the first thing about sword fighting?" he asked with raised brows.

"Stick 'em with the pointy end," she said in an instant and he really did smile.

"She's telling the truth father, she only showed me it … she never fought me with it," Bran piped up.

"I'm not stupid," Arya added.

"No," Ned agree, "no you're not stupid … neither of you are … if you must continue with this then I think I'd best find you a real teacher"

"Truly?!" Bran exclaimed.

"Both of us?!" Arya burst out.

"Both of you," he confirmed, "If you insist on owning a sword it's best you know how to use it"

He had tried to sound stern but the final part came out as sheer amusement as both Bran and Arya had launched themselves at him when he said 'both of you' and wrapped their arms tightly around his waist. Ned let his own arms come and embrace them back for a long moment, delighting in how happy he had managed to make them. His thought on leaving the council chambers had been a true one, his children had managed to cheer him up.

* * *

><p><em>Winterfell <em>

* * *

><p>Catelyn smiled to herself as she walked into the dining hall to be greeted by the sight of Robb and Dany poring over what she assumed were Winterfell's accounts. She was unsurprised that Robb was going through them in the hall, he couldn't stand working in Ned's study, it made him feel as though his father was watching over him as he worked and he couldn't concentrate. Using the dining hall gave him much more room to spread the papers and he was more at ease with the constant hustle and bustle. Oddly, unlike Ned, the noise didn't seem to put him off at all. Catelyn was pleased to see that Dany was with him, she had always had a talent for numbers and eventually she had grown too good for her Septa to be able to teach her anymore and she had gone to lessons with the boys and the Maester instead. Privately Maester Luwin had told her that Dany clearly outshone the boys and that there was little left that he could teach her.<p>

She watched as Robb leaned in a little further so he could better scrutinize something that Dany was pointing out to him. They conversed for a short time before Robb moved his quill to the paper and noted a few things down. He turned to smile at Dany then and she mirrored his movement exactly. Catelyn felt her own smile fall then as a sense of unease crept up on her, looking at them now they looked just like a Lord and Lady of their own house. She swallowed hard then and began to approach them. Robb and Dany had always been close, ever since childhood, now though it was dawning on her exactly what that could lead to and she didn't want either of them to end up with a broken heart. If it were up to her and Ned then there would be no doubt at all in her mind that Dany would be a perfect match for her eldest son. It wasn't just up to them though, the King would hear of any betrothal and he would not approve of it. Ned had to tread carefully now that he was Hand, he could not risk doing anything to upset the King and Catelyn knew well enough that giving permission for his heir to marry a Targaryen would do just that.

* * *

><p>"You're doing it again," Theon said as he and Robb stood watching as Dany and Adele walked through the gardens arm in arm.<p>

"So are you," Robb muttered and Theon couldn't deny it.

"She still won't speak to me," he said.

"Maybe you should give up," Robb suggested.

"Not a chance in the seven hells," Theon said, shaking his head, "not on an arse like that"

"You're a disgrace," Robb said.

"I know," Theon agreed with a slight sigh, "but tell me you've never had a sinful thought about Dany"

"I'd never act on it," he said and Theon snorted.

"Only because you wouldn't know what to do," he said.

"Or because I have to much respect for her honour … and my own," Robb countered.

"More fool you," Theon said, making to walk towards the girls, "honour is overrated"

Robb sighed heavily and followed on after him after a moment. Theon really did seem desperate to get Adele to talk to him again and perhaps if he and Dany were there too then she might not flee at once as she usually did when he came anywhere near her. The longer it went on the more guilty Robb felt, he knew why she was avoiding Theon but he couldn't tell him. If he told him then he would land Jon in trouble and he had promised his brother that he wouldn't say a word. Theon had guessed anyway, he just hadn't been able yet to get a moment with her to talk her around. Robb had to admire his determination though, usually he would have given up long before now and moved on to the next pretty girl.

"… you'll have to excuse me, I just remembered … there is an errand I have to run," Adele was saying as Robb reached them and he almost felt Theon bristle in annoyance next to him as she offered a swift smile to him and Dany and ignored Theon completely before rushing away.

"Damn it all!" Theon exclaimed as soon as she was out of earshot.

"You know we _were _enjoying a peaceful walk around the gardens," Dany commented then.

"She can't seriously ignore me forever," Theon said.

"I think she will seriously try," Dany said.

"She is doing rather well so far," Robb added and he scowled at him.

"I just need a chance to explain …" Theon began.

"That you're the world's biggest letch?" Dany supplied and he glared at her.

"Don't be too mean Dany … I think he actually likes this one," Robb commented then and she sighed.

"She likes those flowers," she finally said, "she told me earlier but she was afraid of getting into trouble if she picked any for her room"

"Those flowers?" Theon checked, pointing to the pale pink daisies that sprung up under the elm tree.

"Yes," she confirmed and his face lit up.

"Thank you Dany," he said as he crossed over to carefully pick some.

"Just don't break her heart," she warned him and he grinned to himself.

"Do you have any idea where she would have gone?" Theon asked when he finished picking the flowers.

"The library," Dany told him after scrutinizing him for a long moment, "she knows you never go in there"

"Clever girl," Theon murmured under his breath then before he practically ran back through the gardens towards the courtyard.

Robb and Dany watched him go with almost identical looks of amusement on one another's faces before they turned and grinned at one another. Without a word Robb offered her his arm and she took it before they resumed what had been her walk with Adele. As much as she liked the girl she much preferred having Robb's presence at her side. She tightened her grip on his arm involuntarily then and the extra pressure brought a smile to Robb's face as they continued walking in step through the gardens with their hearts pounding an extra beat too fast.

* * *

><p>"Adele?" Theon called quietly from the door of the library, smirking slightly as he could have sworn he heard her curse.<p>

"What?" she asked him as he appeared at the end of the aisle of shelves she was lurking between.

"I brought you these," he said, bringing the flowers out from behind his back.

"Why?" she asked him suspiciously although he could see the hidden delight in her eyes.

"Because I can't help but feel like you've been avoiding me," he said and she blushed slightly.

"I thought it best," she said, avoiding his eyes.

"Why?" it was his turn to ask then.

"Truth be told I was warned that your intentions are less than honourable," she told him.

"By who?" he questioned her with a frown.

"By half the women of Winterfell," she said then and he had the decency to look ashamed of himself.

"I see," he said awkwardly.

"Were your intentions towards me any different?" she asked him.

"Adele …" he started.

"Were they?" she demanded, "The truth please Theon"

"I wanted you in my bed," he said then, meeting her eyes, "that's the truth of it"

"And you wonder why I stayed away from you?" she scoffed.

"Adele I would never have forced you to do anything you didn't want," he protested.

"But you would have tried to charm your way between my legs?" she guessed and he sighed.

"Yes I would have, because you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen," he told her.

"I'm sure you say that to all the girls," she snorted.

"Perhaps," he conceded, "but you truly are"

"You see there's the problem Theon," she sighed and he frowned at her.

"What?" he asked.

"I don't know whether you are speaking the truth or not … I can't trust you," she said.

"Can't you just give me a chance to prove myself?" he asked her.

"Theon …" she almost groaned.

"I did bring you your favourite flowers," he persuaded.

"Only because Dany told you I liked them," she shot back at him.

"Only because she knows how desperate I am for us to be friends again," he countered.

"Friends?" she said sceptically, reaching out and finally taking the flowers from him.

"For now," he said smoothly and she couldn't help but smile.

"You're a letch," she stated.

"From now on I will only letch on you," he promised.

"Is that supposed to flatter me?" she asked.

"Perhaps," he winked and she smiled even more widely.

"Very well," she said slowly, "friends"

"I will take that gladly," he returned her smile before taking her free hand and placing a kiss to the back of it.

* * *

><p><em>Pentos<em>

* * *

><p>Illyrio smiled in satisfaction to himself before he closed the lid of the small but ornately decorated casket. It would be the perfect gift for Daenerys, now all he had to do was persuade Viserys that it was a good idea to send his sister a name day gift. He would send it anyway of course, she was part of his plans whether or not her brother played along, only it would be better by now for Viserys to continue thinking that he was in command. He called for a servant then and sent them to ask the volatile boy for an audience. Best it was phrased like that so he didn't <em>wake the dragon<em>. Illyrio almost rolled his eyes at that thought. Viserys was no dragon. He wondered vaguely if his sister was. From the little information Varys had sent him it seemed that the girl was beautiful and clever as well as being of gentle temperament. Kind, was one way she had been described. She sounded like the complete opposite of her brother and Illyrio had been delighted to hear it.

A knock sounded on the door of his solar then and he called for his visitor to come in. He was unsurprised to see Viserys but relieved at the same time that he did not have any trace of anger hidden in his features. Still, Illyrio knew him well enough by now to know that his temper could flare up at the slightest thing. Best he tread carefully.

"Aah, your Grace," he greeted.

"You requested my presence," Viserys stated slightly impatiently.

"And I am delighted you have gifted me with it, please … come and see what I have here," he beckoned.

"It's a box," Viserys said dully.

"Inside is a gift … for your sister," Illyrio said slowly.

"Why would you send _her_ a gift?" he demanded.

"Well I wouldn't … you however …" Illyrio trailed off and Viserys narrowed his eyes.

"Why would I send her a gift?" he altered his question then.

"You remember what we spoke of?" Illyrio reminded him.

"Of course, I am not a half wit," Viserys snapped, "but I never agreed to such a plan, I would see more sell sword companies before I make up my mind"

"Of course your Grace, but surely there is no harm in sending a gift? Her name day is coming, the gesture might sweeten her if you should have need of her in the future," he persuaded.

"What is it anyway?" Viserys asked, coming closer and lifting up the lid.

"Dragon's eggs," Illyrio told him and he snorted.

"Stone relics," he said dismissively.

"A reminder of the house she truly belongs to," Illyrio corrected him and he narrowed his eyes again.

"Fine," he finally said.

"You would have me send it to her?" Illyrio checked.

"I would," Viserys confirmed, "I think it's about time we reminded my sweet sister to whom she belongs."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Hope you didn't think I'd forget about those eggs! More soon lovelies!

:)


	8. Grandeur

**A/N: **Hey guys! Sorry this chapter is later than I intended, RL got well and truly in my way!

Hope the update was worth the wait.

Please let me know!

**queeninthenorth: **sorry for the tension I'm causing you, I wish I could say this chapter will relieve it ... anyway, glad you're still enjoying and you're right - things will get bumpy!

:)

* * *

><p><strong>Grandeur <strong>

* * *

><p><em>Winterfell<em>

* * *

><p>"You summoned us my Lord," Jon's sarcastic tones reached Robb's ears and he turned and grinned.<p>

"I did," he confirmed, "name days"

"Ours?" Dany asked him.

"Yes yours, who else's?" he rolled his eyes and she beamed at him.

"What about them?" Jon asked then.

"Well, they're so close together, and we've had precious little fun around here lately … I thought perhaps a joint celebration was in order," Robb said.

"That's such a wonderful idea," Dany said excitedly.

"What were you thinking?" Jon asked.

"Feasting, dancing, drinking," Robb shrugged, "what everyone else does on their name day"

"Sounds good," Jon grinned.

"Just what Winterfell needs," Dany smiled.

"And you," Robb turned to her, "are going to the seamstress and having her make you whatever you want … my gift to you"

"Are you sure?" she asked him, her eyes widening slightly.

"Unless you'd prefer something else?" he asked her teasingly and she shook her head.

"No, thank you Robb! I'll go and see her now!" she said excitedly, beaming at him before hurrying from the hall.

Both Robb and Jon watched her leave, Robb with a look of longing on his face and Jon with a rather more thoughtful expression that he turned on his brother once Dany was out of sight. Robb took a moment to realise that Jon was looking at him expectantly and he blinked rather rapidly when he did and fixed a smile on his face to which Jon raised his eyebrows.

"And can I go and see the seamstress and have her make whatever I please?" Jon asked with a slight smirk on his lips.

"If you must," Robb muttered, turning back to his papers.

"You shouldn't encourage her," Jon said then and Robb frowned before turning to look at him.

"What?" he asked.

"Dany," Jon elaborated, "you know how she looks at you … how much she likes you … you shouldn't encourage her it's not fair"

"Jon, I don't …" Robb began.

"Look … you may like her too, but you know it can never happen," Jon said softly.

"Yes, I know," he snapped back more harshly than he intended, "I just wanted to do something nice for her is that so bad?!"

"I'm sorry Robb," Jon said, shaking his head, "I didn't mean to interfere, I just don't want to see either of you hurt"

"How can we be when nothing can ever happen?" Robb asked bitterly and Jon sighed.

"I really am sorry," he said, clapping his brother on the shoulder.

* * *

><p>When Jon left him alone Robb sat heavily at the table and dropped his head into his hands, massaging his temples firmly as he tried to stop his mind racing with thoughts of Dany. Theon had warned him. Now Jon had warned him. Who next? Were his feelings really so obvious? And hers. His stomach jolted as he remembered exactly what Jon had said. <em>You know how she looks at you<em>. Did he? Did he know? He always just assumed it was him, him who had the desire for more than friendship coursing through his veins but what if she felt the same? What if she felt for him the way he felt for her?

It wouldn't make a difference, he thought bitterly. They still wouldn't be allowed to be with one another because she was a ward from a disgraced house and the King would never allow it. Dany would never be considered a match for him because he needed _better _as he would one day be Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North. _Better. _Who could be better than her? It mattered nothing to Robb who her family were or where they had come from or what they had done. All that mattered was her and how sweet and wonderful and kind she was. She would make a wonderful Lady of Winterfell if only she would be given the chance. His stomach twisted in knots at the mere thought.

It would do him no good though. She wouldn't be given a chance. She wouldn't even be considered as a match for him because he was considered too _good _for her. He snorted then. How could anyone ever be too good for her? Sometimes he just wished that he wasn't the eldest son; that he had been born second, or even third. That there was another ahead of him that would carry his burden and marry a woman they were supposed to. Then he would be free, free to perhaps persuade his parents and the King that Dany was the best match for him. He sighed heavily and lifted his head back up to his papers. Dreaming would do him no good. He _was _the eldest son whether he liked it or not and he had a duty to do that did not include mooning over a woman that could never be his.

* * *

><p><em>King's Landing<em>

* * *

><p>Ned was grim faced as he sat himself down on one of the benches between Sansa and Arya. Bran was on Arya's other side and to Ned's irritation Littlefinger was sat next to Sansa. He had attended three more council meetings since the first and he had still not warmed to the man that had grown up a ward at Riverrun and been a companion to Catelyn. Maybe that was why. He knew damn well that Littlefinger had been in love with his sweet Cat all those years ago. How different things could have been if she had allowed Brandon to end his life. He pulled his mind away from such macabre thoughts then as the crowd began to clap and cheer for the first two opponents. Robert's booming voice could be heard several feet above him from the Royal box telling them all to get on with it. Ned didn't need to turn around to know that the Queen likely looked outraged and that Robert was more than likely drunk already.<p>

Arya seemed to be bouncing up and down slightly in her place next to him and he smiled faintly. At least his children could enjoy this ridiculous pomp even if he couldn't stand it. He would endure the damn thing for them if it made them happy. He turned his head slightly then as Littlefinger caught Sansa up in conversation. He seemed to be telling her the story of the Hound and what had happened to him to cause such horrific scars and Ned almost stepped in to tell him to stop. It was not really the kind of tale that his gentle hearted daughter should be hearing, no doubt it would horrify her. Arya on the other hand would probably revelled in the gruesome story. Before he could step in though Littlefinger tailed off as the first two riders galloped towards one another with their lances raised high. Ned glanced at Sansa and saw she looked rather paler than usual before he turned his eyes back to the riders who clashed into one another.

He winced as the lance of the bigger man splintered right in the visor of his opponent. The crowd seemed to gasp as one as the defeated man fell from his horse and lay unmoving on the dusty ground. The victor continued to the end and pulled his helm off and Ned felt the familiar stab of recognition and revulsion as Gregor Clegane surveyed the crowd who were paying more attention to his fallen opponent.

"Is he dead?" Arya asked, leaning forwards slightly.

"I don't know," Ned told her honestly as two squires hurried to the unmoving man.

"I thought tourneys were supposed to be fun?" Bran breathed next to her then and he smiled wryly.

"Perhaps you ought to think twice before you enter any lists," Ned told him seriously.

"Who is that man?" Arya asked curiously then.

"Gregor Clegane, the mountain that rides," it was Littlefinger who answered him.

"That's the Mountain?" Arya said in disgust.

"The Hound's brother?" Sansa piped up then, looking between him and Littlefinger.

"The very same my Lady," he told her and she paled even more.

"No doubt he'll win," Arya said moodily and Ned smiled slightly.

"Don't be so sure," he said, "the bigger they are; the harder they fall"

"Who's that?" Sansa breathed then and they all turned their attentions back to the joust.

"Ser Loras Tyrell," Littlefinger told her and she stared at him.

He was quite possibly the most handsome man she had ever seen. Of course, she could never say so out loud as she was betrothed to the Prince but surely there was no harm in looking at him? His armour was wrought with jewelled flowers as his house sigil and a cape about him made of what looked like real roses all woven together. His dark, curly hair fanned out behind him as he trotted out into the arena to await his opponent, his eyes scanning the crowd and lingering slightly on Sansa. She felt herself blush as her blue eyes met his piercing gold stare and she had to blink rather rapidly to compose herself when he finally looked away to pull on his helm. As Ser Loras and his opponent rode furiously towards one another Sansa held her breath and could barely looked as the lances clashed. She needn't have worried, Loras' opponent was unseated but thankfully unharmed as his squire helped him up from the dust and she breathed a sigh of relief, her eyes lingering for a moment on the dark stain that had spread from the last defeated man.

The event continued and Sansa was delighted when Loras Tyrell unseated each and every opponent he came up against. Each time he won a round he handed out a white rose to a pretty girl he had spotted in the crowd and she tried not to feel envious that he hadn't picked her out for one yet. Her mother always told her she was beautiful but perhaps she was not quite good enough for these southern Lords. When Loras unseated a member of the Kingsguard to reach the final round though he approached her and handed her a red rose. She flushed as brightly as the delicate petals when he smiled at her and she could barely keep her eyes from him as he sauntered back to get ready for the final round. Eventually she tore her gaze from him to look towards who he would be facing and she froze, a look of horror on her face when she saw Gregor Clegane saddling up.

"Surely not," she whispered, her eyes darting to her father.

"Ser Loras is skilled Sansa, he'll be alright," he said but she wasn't reassured.

"The Mountain is huge, he will be maimed or killed just like all the others," she whispered furiously.

"Hush now, just wait and see," Ned soothed her.

"Oh … that is a crafty trick," Littlefinger chuckled on Sansa's other side.

"What is?" she asked him as the Mountain's stallion began to paw insistently at the ground.

"Ser Loras has changed his horse," he told her, "he's going to ride a mare in heat"

"That will drive Clegane's horse wild," Ned said.

"As I said … crafty," Littlefinger smirked and Sansa turned her eyes back to the final.

Sure enough the Mountain's horse did seem restless and his rider seemed to be having trouble controlling him as they lined up for the final round. Ser Loras on his own horse looked unaffected as he pulled on his helm and took up his lance. At the signal the two men kicked their horses into motion and Sansa held her breath as they charged at one another, just waiting for the splintering of the lances. The sound didn't come though as when they drew closer the Mountain's horse suddenly reared and the great man fell from the back of it. Loras rode on passed and when he reached the opposite end he pulled off his helm and smiled and waved at the now cheering crowd. He was the champion and Sansa finally let out her breath and clapped heartily along with everyone else.

It was Arya's shout that drew their attention to the Mountain as both she and Bran jumped up to their feet as the huge man hauled himself up from the ground and called for his sword. None of them had ever seen a sword so big, it was the size of a man. Bran had thought his father's sword Ice was huge when he had seen him with it over the years but this steel was longer than him. As soon as it was in the Mountain's hands he swung it with such ease as though it were as light as a feather and brought it swinging through the air to strike the head of his horse clean off. The thud of the stallion's body and severed head hitting the ground had all the crowd's attention on him now but the Mountain's was fixed on the man at the other end of the arena and he charged at Loras Tyrell with a roar that sounded more animal than human.

"Oh Gods he's going to kill him!" Sansa squeaked and none of them contradicted her.

Loras turned just in time to unsheathe his own sword and somehow deflect the blow that the Mountain tried to land on him. The effort caused his knees to buckle and in an instant he was knelt, his sword raising up and his eyes fearful as the man towering over him prepared to swing his great-sword again. The blow never fell though, it was knocked aside by another. By the Hound. Sansa stared and the crowd all seemed to draw breath as one as they all looked down on this rather unexpected scene. The two brothers faced one another, neither of them looking willing to back down and the hatred that flowed between them could practically be felt by the watching crowd.

"Enough!" the King's voice bellowed, "Enough of this madness! Stop it now!"

* * *

><p><em>Winterfell<em>

* * *

><p>Dany practically skipped down the hallways after she had seen the seamstress. True to his word Robb had arranged it so she could have whatever she wanted and the seamstress had the most beautiful silks and delicate fabrics in such beautiful colours and she had been loath to choose just one. In the end she had finally made up her mind and chosen a shimmering blue silk which looked almost purple in certain light and which brought out her violet eyes. The cut was rather daring and she blushed slightly at the thought of how much flesh she would be showing. It was a southern style, not something women up in the cold North would usually wear but Dany wanted something different and special to wear for the name day feast. Something that would catch Robb's eyes.<p>

She stopped her skipping then, her heart seemingly stumbling over its own beats as she slowed to a walk, her mind racing. She shouldn't be thinking such things. She shouldn't be trying to entice a man that she could never have. What was she thinking? The truth was she wasn't, she wasn't thinking because whenever she thought of Robb all sense left her. Everything she knew, all the reasons why she could never be his all flew from her mind and she was just left with him standing before her smiling that smile and just waiting with his hand outstretched. Gods she would take that hand in an instant if he offered it but he wouldn't. He couldn't. Even _if _he thought of her in that way he would never make an advance on her because he was too good and honourable. He would never compromise her honour or his own. He was saving that for his wife and Dany felt the familiar stab of bitterness right in the very core of her when she remembered that that would never be her.

Outside the dining hall she took a deep breath to compose herself before she entered. She had intended on sitting herself with Loral and her children again but as soon as he eyes found Robb at the high table she began walking towards him. Damn it all. What did it matter if she could never be his wife? Did that mean that she had to stay away from him? Deny herself the pleasure of his company while he was still free to share it with her? He was too tempting to stay away from and she couldn't ignore the feelings anymore. Somewhere deep inside herself she needed to know whether he felt the same way she did and there was only one way for her to find out if he did.

"Did you see the seamstress?" he asked her as soon as she dropped down at his side.

"Yes," she smiled, "thank you so much … I've never had anything so fine before"

"It is not every day a woman reaches her eighteenth name day," he smiled back at her and her stomach clenched as she plucked up the courage to ask her next words.

"I thought …" she began, swallowing hard, "I thought … maybe we could ride out on the morning before the feast … we could go to the hot springs?"

"Gods we've not been there in so long," he said happily, "that's a wonderful idea Dany"

"So _we'll _go?" she checked with him, meeting his intense blue gaze.

"Yes, _we'll _go," he agreed and she let out a breath when she heard his own emphasis. He wanted it to be just them as much as she did.

"Go where?" Theon piped up as he dropped down on Robb's other side.

"Dany thought we could ride out to the hot springs," Robb told him grudgingly.

"Brilliant idea," Theon grinned, "I'll ask Adele"

"Well …" Robb began.

"And I suppose Jon will come," he went on, "and Serra and Joren if Loral allows them"

"Theon …" Robb started again.

"I'll go and ask them," he jumped up at once and Robb let out a frustrated sigh.

"Sorry," Robb said, turning to glance at Dany.

"Never mind," she said, forcing her voice to come out brightly but Robb looked at her for a moment longer and wondered if he had imagined the look of disappointment in her eyes. Maybe Jon was right. Maybe she liked him too. The thought made his heart clench and he wanted nothing more than to strangle Theon for his blatant sabotage. What he wouldn't give to get Dany on her own out there and just forget for one afternoon that he was the heir to Winterfell and that she was forbidden.

* * *

><p><em>The Wall<em>

* * *

><p>Benjen strode across the courtyard, pulling his furs closer around him as he made his way towards the Lord Commanders quarters. He would be riding out again soon and the Old Bear wanted him to take more men this time. He wanted to know exactly what was happening beyond the Wall and Benjen was determined to find out. Likely it would be a long trip, it would take them months, winter may well have truly arrived by the time they returned but they had to discover the truth. If walkers truly were springing up again then the southern kingdoms would need to be warned. He sighed heavily as he entered Castle Black his mind wandering to his poor brother who would no doubt be at the Capitol by now. Gods he hoped Ned would escape that place alive, if there really was trouble beyond the Wall then the North would be the first kingdom the Watch would call upon. Benjen knew that Ned would rally his men at once but with him away it would be down to Robb and as much as he loved his nephew, the boy was green and did not command the respect of the bannermen yet. Robb would have to prove himself and Benjen sincerely hoped his test wouldn't come against walkers.<p>

"Come," the Old Bear's voice commanded him almost the instant he had knocked on the door.

"You asked to see me Lord Commander," he greeted as he strode inside.

"Aye," the man nodded, "sit … we need to discuss this range of yours"

"You want to send more men," Benjen stated and he nodded again.

"Scouts, lookouts … I want eyes everywhere as you travel out Stark," he told him and Benjen nodded.

"I agree my Lord, we need to discover the truth of these wildling claims," he said.

"Take the best men Stark, don't scrimp, Yoren will be bringing back new recruits soon enough," the Old Bear said as he poured them both a flagon of ale.

"As you wish," Benjen said, deciding against voicing his opinion that Yoren would come back with the contents of King's Landing's prison.

"Something is wrong out there," the man said as he passed him his ale, "I can feel it"

"Hopefully it's just winter," Benjen said but both men knew he didn't believe his own words.

"Winter brings cold aye," he agreed with another nod of the head, "but if it's brought more we need to be prepared for it."

* * *

><p><em>King's Landing<em>

* * *

><p>Ned looked up from reading over several of Robert's letters as a knock sounded at his door. Who in the name of the Gods was calling at this time? He had just been about to give up for the night as his head was pounding and his vision was beginning to swim. All he wanted was to crawl between his sheets and dream that he was still back at home at Winterfell with Cat wrapped snuggly in his arms and their children all safe and secure in their own beds. Now he had a visitor to contend with and he called out wearily for whoever it was to enter. His eyes widened slightly as the door opened to reveal Grand Maester Pycelle and he got to his feet at once when he saw the large tome that the man carried in his arms.<p>

"Let me help you with that," Ned said at once, coming forward to take the heavy book from him.

"Thank you my Lord," the old man wheezed, "it is the book you requested, the book that Jon Arryn was reading before he passed"

"Thank you," Ned said, distracted now as his eyes sought the title of the book.

"Is there anything else you need Lord Stark?" Pycelle asked him then and he shook his head.

"No …" he said absently, "no … no thank you Maester; that is all"

"I shall leave you then Lord Stark," Pycelle said and Ned nodded gratefully to him before he turned and left his chambers.

Ned set the book down on his desk then, all thoughts of sleep deserting him as he sat heavily and stared at the title for the longest time. _The Lineage and Histories of the Great Houses of the Seven Kingdoms_. Why in the name of the Gods would Jon Arryn have wanted to read this? Was he looking for something it there? Had he found it?

_The seed is strong. _

Jon Arryn's final words. Ned had been confused by them when Pycelle had said them. He had thought perhaps he had meant his own boy Robin but he was a sickly child, not one that could be considered strong by any stretch of the imagination. Did he mean Robert's children then? Damn it all, he couldn't think about this now, his head was pounding again and his body was screaming for sleep. He stood up from his desk. The book could wait until morning. He stripped his clothes away then and slipped into bed but his eyes didn't seem to want to close, his mind still fixed on Jon Arryn and why he would want such a book. He had asked others about what the man was doing in the weeks leading up to his death and had been told he had spent time with Stannis, that they had visited some of Robert's bastards in the city.

That in itself wasn't that unusual. It was common knowledge that Robert had children here there and everywhere that were not borne to him by the Queen. Likely he spent some coin on them and made sure they were well looked after. As Hand it would make sense for Jon Arryn to make sure that his wishes were carried out. Why was Stannis with him though? It wasn't as though Ned could even ask him either as he had gone back to Dragonstone long before he had arrived at the Capitol. Perhaps he would visit these bastards himself come morning, he had heard tell that there was one boy that worked in the smiths that was Robert's natural son. He sighed heavily then and closed his eyes. Tomorrow. He would worry about it all tomorrow. He drifted into a light and uneasy sleep then, the words the Maester had told him still ringing through his head.

_The seed is strong. _

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Thoughts lovelies?

More ASAP!

:)


	9. The Seed is Strong

**A/N: **OK, since I managed to get in a really productive weekend of writing I'm rewardimg myself (and you lot I hope) by putting up the next chapter a little earlier than anticipated. Hope you all enjoy it!

(For those who read Lionheart as well the new chapter will be up tomorrow - haven't been quite as productive with that!)

Guest thanks to do first!

**Guest: **I know! Damn Theon, but he is just trying to look out for them - albeit in an irritating fashion!

**castamere: **Everyone is trying to keep them apart because a match wouldn't be agreed between them with Robert as King and they don't want them getting hurt. I know it is sad for the moment but I'm glad Theon made you laugh!

**queeninthenorth: **Yep, Theon did really just have to lol. I know, sad face for Robb and Dany. As for your question ... as if I can give away major spoilers like that! I'm afraid you'll have to be a little patient and wait and see ;)

Anyways, I will let you all get on now, hope you enjoy this one - your thoughts as ever would be amazing!

:)

* * *

><p><strong>The Seed is Strong<strong>

* * *

><p><em>The Wolfswood<em>

* * *

><p>The small party broke into a gallop as they approached their destination, the hot springs they were heading to were located in the next clearing and now they were so close none of them could wait to get to them. There were laughs and jests thrown out into the air as they all urged their horses to move faster. Theon entered the clearing first with Robb right behind him cursing as the both pulled up the reins and slid down from their mounts. When they turned they saw Jon followed by Dany and then Serra and Adele coming side by side at a rather more leisurely pace. Joren had been forbidden from coming, he was not the strongest swimmer and Loral had worried that with the others bringing wine out with them that they might let their eyes wander from him. The boy had raged and sulked but his mother wouldn't waver and in the end he had waved them off in rather a sullen fashion. Still, there was the feast to look forward to as Serra had reminded him and he had looked vaguely cheered by the thought.<p>

Robb and Theon stepped forwards then to help Dany and Adele down from their horses, Robb wished he had the nerve that Theon possessed that let him keep his hands on Adele's waist for far longer than he needed to. As it was he didn't and he let go of Dany as soon as she was safely on her feet. He was doing better than Jon though, Serra was still sat atop her mount sending his brother a rather hopeful look that Jon was utterly oblivious to. Robb caught Theon's eye then and the older man sighed rather heavily and shook his head before he himself helped Serra down from her mount. She looked vaguely disappointed but she thanked Theon graciously enough and bestowed a small smile on him before she wandered off to where Dany was shaking out a blanket for them all to sit on.

As Dany looked up and smiled at the younger girl Robb's heart pounded ferociously. How was it that her simply smiling made his chest constrict in such a way? He turned to Theon then and saw his friend eyeing Adele in what he could only describe as a hungry manner. Not that he could entirely blame Theon, Adele's dress was cut rather lowly and he could only imagine how tight her lacings must be to make her breasts appear that rounded and enticing. He bit his lip slightly. One thing he wanted was time alone with Dany and he would bet Winterfell that Theon would kill for a moment alone with Adele's breasts and so he nudged his friend slightly.

"Do me a favour," he said.

"What?" Theon asked him suspiciously.

"Just give me and Dany a little time alone," he said and Theon sighed.

"You'll only both end up hurt," Theon warned him.

"Oh come on Theon … tell me you wouldn't rather spend your time with Adele?" Robb persuaded.

"You forget we have other company …" Theon reminded him and he sighed.

"Take them with you … no doubt you can give them the slip, Jon can't stand spending time with you anyway and Serra would be glad of it," he said.

"You're a damn fool Stark," Theon sighed heavily again and Robb smiled slightly.

"Is that a yes?" he asked but Theon didn't reply, he merely began striding towards the others.

"Who fancies a walk down to the riverbanks before we take a dip in the pools?" Theon called out as he approached and Robb allowed his smile to widen.

"I'd love to," Adele said at once, rising to her feet and beaming at Theon.

"I don't know …" Dany said, biting on her lip and glancing briefly at Robb.

"I'm not bothered," Robb said, seating himself heavily down onto the blanket.

"Jon?" Adele asked then and Theon was glad that he hadn't had to ask the bastard.

"I uhm …" Jon pondered, glancing at Robb who fixed him with an insistent stare, "I suppose a walk would be good"

"I think I'll come too," Serra said then as Robb knew she would and he tried not to look too pleased with himself.

"We'll not be long," Theon said and Robb heard the underlying meaning.

He watched as the four of them ambled towards the trees, noticing how both Theon and Jon turned before they disappeared from sight to fix him with a warning look. He almost laughed then. For years he had been trying to get Theon and Jon to find some common ground and now it seemed they had. Both of them seemed determined that he stay away from Dany. He knew he should too, but as he glanced at her and saw how serene and beautiful she looked with the sunlight glinting down onto her silvery blonde hair he wondered how he ever could.

"I don't much fancy waiting for them to get back," she said then, rising up to her feet, her hands going for the lacings of her dress.

"No," Robb agreed, his heart pounding as he stood up to face her, his own hands coming to the fastenings of his doublet.

When they were children his mother and father had often brought them all out here, it was where they had all learned to swim and when they were younger they would strip off all their clothes and splash naked in the pools. When they grew older they kept their small clothes on as his parents told them to and none of them ever questioned why. Robb understood now though as Dany shrugged out of her dress and stood standing in just her under-shift. If she took that off too he would be lost, he would be utterly powerless to stop himself grabbing her and pulling her down to the ground and taking her right here. She shuddered then, from the slight chill in the air or the way he was staring at her so intensely he didn't know. Suddenly she felt rather exposed and she purposely looked away from him and walked towards the largest pool, seating herself down at the side before sliding into the perfectly warm water.

Robb watched her for a moment as she swam a few lengths before ducking her head under the water. He pulled his shirt up and over his head then before bending down to unlace his boots. He approached the water then clad in just his breeches as she emerged from the depths, her eyes lingering for a moment on his chest before she pulled them away from him. Was it his imagination or was there a blush on her cheeks? He couldn't be certain, perhaps she was just flushed from her head being submerged in the warm water.

"This certainly beats bathing," Robb stated as he too slipped into the pool.

"It certainly does," she agreed as she swam to the opposite edge and seated herself on the submerged ledge that stuck out.

"I'm glad we came," Robb said, his eyes lingering on the tops of her breasts that were exposed to the chill of the air. He could see the goose pimples beginning to appear across them and he wanted nothing more than to swim to her and place his hands over them to hear her sigh his name in his ear. He ducked his own head under the water then and did not emerge until his lungs were screaming for air. Dany was looking at him intently when he resurfaced but he determinedly avoided her gaze and swam several laps of the pool before he could avoid going to sit with her no longer.

"Do you think the others are enjoying their walk?" she asked him as his arm brushed against hers. More goose pimples appeared on her flesh then and she didn't know whether it was the breeze that had caused them or his touch.

"Probably," he commented, his mind so focused on not turning his head and claiming her lips that it was all he could manage to say.

"I'm glad I didn't go," she said then, turning her head to look at him.

"So am I," he almost whispered back as he turned his own head to face her.

Her heart was beating so fast then that she thought it might burst out of her chest. Was it her imagination or had he moved his face a fraction closer to hers? She was scared to move then. Would he kiss her? Could she let him? If she let him they would be lost. If she let him claim her lips then she knew she would be powerless to stop him claiming everything else. She couldn't trust herself with Robb. She could give him everything all too easily and she knew she had to resist. She couldn't spoil herself and she would not ruin his reputation. He was too good for that. Somehow she managed to make her lips form words, to get her body to move again.

"I am starved Robb," she declared, pulling back and hauling herself out of the water, "I hope the cooks packed us something good"

He didn't reply as she walked away, his heart still beating too quickly in his chest as he watched her pull a towelling cloth about her. She wasn't quite quick enough though, her shift had almost become transparent in the water and the wet material clung to her body. She may as well have been naked and Robb felt a stirring in his breeches that he prayed to the Gods would go away so he didn't have to sit in the pool and hide it for the rest of the day. He had been so sure that their lips would meet and move so perfectly with one another's the way he had imagined it countless times in his dreams but then she had pulled herself away from him with an excuse about being hungry. Had he been wrong to think that she returned his feelings? Gods, what if she didn't want him? That thought quelled all desire that had risen up in him as he looked towards the woman who was now purposely avoiding his gaze. Damn it all. Had he been wrong?

* * *

><p><em>King's Landing<em>

* * *

><p>Jory walked at Ned's side as they manoeuvred their way through the streets of Flea Bottom. The smiths was their destination and both men kept glancing about nervously to check that they were not being followed. Ned had trusted none of his men but Jory with what he was doing. Jory was a good man, a loyal man and Ned needed one because if he uncovered something nasty then he needed to know that there was someone else who could help him get his children away and safely back to Winterfell. He looked up then and saw the sign for the smith, turning his head to Jory who nodded slightly and they picked up their pace slightly. The door was flung wide open already and Ned stepped inside after a moment's hesitation, Jory remaining outside to keep a look out up and down the streets for White Cloaks or Gold Cloaks or just anyone who looked as though they were lurking around.<p>

"Tobho Mott?" Ned asked then and the clanging of steel subsided somewhat.

"Aye?" the man turned to him, hammer still in hand.

"Eddard Stark," he introduced himself and Tobho faltered slightly before placing the hammer down and bowing shortly.

"What can I do for you my Lord Hand?" Tobho asked him and he wondered how best to phrase his next question.

"My predecessor visited you did he not?" Ned asked then and the man nodded.

"He did … seemed more interested in the boy though than any steel," he said, jerking his head towards the back of the smith where more clanging could be heard.

"The boy?" Ned questioned him.

"Gendry," he said, "orphaned boy, mother died when he was a lad and there was never any name given for his father"

"I see," Ned said slowly, "but you took him on?"

"I did," Tobho nodded, "knew from the size of his hands he'd be a damn fine smith and I haven't been disappointed"

"I'm glad to hear it," Ned said, "Can I see the boy?"

"Of course," he nodded again, "Gendry!"

The clanging of steel finally came to a stop and Ned breathed a slight sigh of relief. It wasn't until the sound had ceased that he realised that it had been giving him a headache. A black haired boy approached him and Ned surveyed him carefully. The dark hair. The shape of his jawline. The eyes like chips of blue ice. Ned would stake his life that Gendry was Robert's. But why was Jon Arryn so interested in him?

"This is the Hand of the King boy," Tobho said then, "he's come to see you"

"My Lord," Gendry bowed his head slightly.

"I believe the previous Hand came to see you …" Ned started and Gendry nodded.

"Aye, that's true my Lord," he said.

"Why did he come?" Ned asked.

"I don't really know … he asked me some questions about my mother," Gendry said.

"And what did you tell him?" he continued.

"I don't really remember her, I just remember her singing to me and that she had fair hair," Gendry told him and Ned nodded slowly.

"Thank you," he forced a smile, "did you make this, it's fine work?" he asked then, gesturing to a helm in the shape of a bull's head.

"Aye, I did my Lord," Gendry nodded.

"I could purchase it if you'd like?" he suggested, thinking Bran would be overjoyed with it.

"Begging your pardon my Lord but that's mine," Gendry said slightly forcefully and Ned saw Tobho flush from the corner of his eye.

"Gendry …" that master smith started but Ned raised his hand.

"It's no matter," he soothed, "let the boy keep it as he's worked so hard"

"I am sorry my Lord," Tobho bowed lowly as Gendry turned back to his work.

"If the boy ever shows any interest in wielding a sword instead of just crafting them then you send him to me," Ned said quietly and Tobho nodded his agreement as Ned made his way towards the door and back into the sunlight.

Jory looked at him questioningly but he shook his head and sighed heavily. Yes, Gendry was Robert's bastard but he was still no closer to discovering why Jon Arryn had been so interested in him. What possible significance could there be?

* * *

><p><em>The Wolfswood<em>

* * *

><p>Finally Jon had disappeared and Serra had trailed along after him like a lost puppy. Theon could have cheered in sheer joy as they were lost from his sight, his eyes turning back to Adele who was laid out on the riverbank, her eyes closed to the sun that was shining down on them. He approached her and knelt at her side. She didn't open her eyes and he wondered if she had even heard him coming. Before he could change his mind he bent his head to lightly brush her lips with his and her eyes fluttered open at once in surprise.<p>

"Theon …?" she started, frowning slightly at him.

"I'm sorry," he said, his lips only an inch away from hers, "I could resist you no longer"

She bit down gently on her lower lip then but Theon saw the corners of her mouth twitch and he knew that she was trying not to smile. He brought a smile to his own face then and leant in closer. She made no move to stop him nor any protest and so he captured her lips again. This time she moved her own with his, tentatively at first but it wasn't long before her confidence grew, her stomach twisting in knots as Theon let his tongue slip into her mouth. He could feel his own desire for her swelling as he kissed her, slowly lowering his body so he could press himself between her legs. Still she made no move to stop him and he tangled one hand in her hair, both of hers snaking up his shoulders and wrapping around his neck.

Tentatively he let his other hand trail lightly down the soft skin of her neck, tracing along her collarbone before running his fingers down to touch the exposed skin of her breast. She seemed to shudder underneath him but her own hands didn't come to push his away and so he allowed his hand to enclose her breast, massaging the fullness of it tenderly and causing a tiny noise of pleasure to sound at the back of her throat. He took heart from her reaction and let his thumb sneak under the bodice of her dress and circle her hardened bud slowly, the want in his breeches almost unbearable now. Her hands clenched in the hair at the back of his neck at his touch and he pressed his hips even more firmly between her legs causing her to shudder again. He knew it was desire and not fear and he smiled against her lips as he continued bruising them with his own.

Theon let the hand that had been tangled in her hair come away then, dropping it down to settle on her waist before running it firmly across the curve of her hip. His other hand continued to tease her breast and he finally pulled his lips from hers, a frustrated noise leaving her which brought another smile to his face. He kissed across her jawline then and down her neck and collarbone, following the progress that his hand had made before and grazing his teeth lightly down the swell of her breast. She really did moan then and he tried not to feel too pleased with himself as he tugged on her bodice so her full breast was exposed. She gasped in slight surprise then but he closed his mouth around her bud before she could make any protest and another soft moan came from her lips. He was encouraged by her reaction and he let the hand on her hip slowly start to gather up the skirts of her dress. He wanted to just rip them clean away from her and have her but he knew he had to take things slowly. The last thing he needed was to scare her into ignoring him for weeks again, he didn't think he could stomach that torment again.

As her skirts came up above her knee he dropped his hand still further so he could sneak it under them. Adele's stomach twisted even more tightly as she felt his rough, warm hand on the bare skin of her thigh. She should stop him now, he was taking this too far. She could let him kiss her, touch her in places that he probably shouldn't but if she let that hand wander any further then she knew he would soon attempt to take her and she couldn't let him. His thumb rubbed firmly against the smooth skin of her upper thigh then and she finally moved her own hands back to his shoulders and shoved against them. His lips came at once from her breast and she felt the breeze brushing over her exposed skin as his hand clenched slightly around her thigh.

"Enough," she managed to gasp out, wriggling away from him.

"Adele …" he groaned, shifting his body up so she could move away, her hands tugging her skirts back down, her cheeks slightly flushed.

"No Theon," she said firmly, meeting his eyes, "I can't give you my honour … that is for my husband"

"I'm sorry," he said meaningfully then.

"So am I," she said slightly sadly, "I should have stopped you before, I …"

Theon leant in then and cut her off with a light kiss before he pulled away and smiled at her. She looked slightly relieved and he sighed slightly before pressing his lips firmly to her forehead. Her own lips quirked up into a smile then and he did his best to ignore the throbbing in his breeches as he rose up to his feet and held his hand out to her. She took it gladly, smoothing her skirts once she was upright and rearranging her golden brown curls. Gods she was beautiful. Theon wished she hadn't denied him but in truth he wasn't surprised that she had. He wouldn't give up on her though, she was far too special.

"We should go back to the springs," he said then and she nodded her agreement.

They ambled along slowly, their steps in perfect time with one another's. When they reached the top of the riverbanks Adele reached out and laced her fingers with his as they made their way through the trees. Theon smiled to himself at her show of affection. It felt good having her soft, warm hand pressed tightly with his own. It felt so right.

* * *

><p><em>King's Landing<em>

* * *

><p>Ned sighed heavily and ran his hand firmly across his face when he entered the tower of the Hand. Gods why had he not just stayed at Winterfell? It was on days like this when he missed Cat the most, days like this when all he wanted was her in his arms telling him that everything would be alright. She always knew what to say, how to counsel him. He wondered what she would think of all this but quickly stopped as it made his heart ache and his head pound. Slowly he began to make his way up the winding steps, passing by Sansa's door on the way and noticing that it stood slightly ajar. He paused then and wondered if she would mind him disturbing her, spending some time with his daughter could be just the thing he needed to take his mind away from Jon Arryn and Robert's bastards. Before he could knock he heard soft girlish voices trickling towards him and he sighed heavily as he realised that Sansa had Jeyne Poole with her. No doubt she wouldn't thank him for interrupting her time with her friend and he made to leave again.<p>

"I just thank the Gods that Prince Joffrey is _nothing_ like his father," he heard Sansa say as he turned away and he froze where he was.

For a second he could think of nothing but in the next instant he was thinking of everything and he was tearing up the rest of the steps, taking them two at a time until he reached his own landing and almost ran down the hallway and into his chambers. As soon as he was inside he crossed to his desk and opened the book that the Maester had brought for him. The book that Jon Arryn had requested just before his death. The answer was in the book, Ned just knew it. He flipped through page after page furiously until he found the one he wanted and finally managed to calm himself enough to lower himself down into his chair and take a few deep breaths. When he was composed he let his eyes slowly take in the information of the Baratheon line.

It wasn't long before a pattern began to emerge. It didn't matter who married into the line and what their appearance was, the Baratheon blood always won out, all the children being born with black hair and blue eyes. Even the Targaryen blood that was also so traditionally strong was snuffed out, Steffon Baratheon had been as dark as his father with no trace of his Targaryen mother in him nor in any of his children. Robert, Renly and Stannis were all dark. Shireen was dark. It didn't matter who the mother was, the child would always favour the father. He thought of Gendry then … he had said had he not that his mother was fair and yet he was so dark. So clearly Robert's. But Robert's true children – Joffrey, Myrcella and Tommen were all so fair … so Lannister. Ned's heart seemed to pause in his chest then as he came to his chilling realisation.

Golden haired and green eyed. Lannister. They were not Robert's. Cersei's children were not Robert's, they couldn't be, he had the proof of it right here in front of him. Who in the name of the Gods was the father?

* * *

><p>Robert poured Cersei a drink and she observed him coldly for a moment as he heaved his great weight into his chair. Gods she was glad he no longer deigned to visit her chambers anymore. Just the thought of him on top of her, inside of her made her feel sick. She forced a smile then as his eyes found hers and she saw them narrow suspiciously.<p>

"How did it come to this?" he asked her and she raised her brows.

"What do you mean?" she returned and he sighed heavily.

"This," he repeated, "We can't stomach one another's company unless there is a vat of wine between us … and even then …"

"It didn't have to end up this way," she said quietly and he snorted.

"Of course it was always going to end up this way," he almost snarled but she held her gaze on him.

"I loved you," she stated and he stared at her, "in the beginning … I had so much hope for us … did you ever have any? Could there have ever been a chance?"

"No," he said gruffly after a moment and she smiled faintly again.

"It was always her," she said softly and he didn't contradict her.

"Does that make you feel better or worse?" he asked then and she took a sip of wine before answering.

"I don't know," she said, "at least I know I suppose"

"I'm going on a hunt," he announced then and she kept her expression smooth.

Of course he was going on a hunt. He hadn't been out since Winterfell and being cooped up in the Capitol was not something that thrilled Robert at all. She watched him as he took a great gulp from his wine before she moved her own glass to her lips and sipped on it, her expression not betraying how quickly her mind was racing. Yes, Robert would go on his hunt and she would make damn sure it would be his last. He would not be returning.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Please don't throw hate at me for the almost kiss!

I'm sorry! I have their perfect moment in my head and I'm afraid it's just not yet!

Hope you enjoyed it anyway - safe to say things are heating up ;)

More soon!

:)


	10. Certainty

**A/N: **New chapter! Which I did mean to post slightly earlier on in the evening but I got caught up elsewhere!

Anyway! Hope you enjoy!

**queeninthenorth:** I think you're the only one who was thankful! Hopefully the perfect moment for me will be the perfect moment for everyone else when it comes. Yes ... Ned knows, I'm glad you trust me - hope I don't let you down! :)

Please let me know what you think of this one guys!

Next one should be up Monday!

:)

* * *

><p><strong>Certainty<strong>

* * *

><p><em>King's Landing<em>

* * *

><p>Jaime pressed Cersei back against the wall as her breathing became more ragged. Gods it had been too long since he'd had her, she had been so tense since Winterfell, since Joffrey had been betrothed to Sansa Stark. Jaime didn't care if the brats would be married and spawn more brats, he just cared about having his beautiful Cersei pressed up against the wall, his tongue sliding ever so easily into her willing mouth. They were made for one another. This was how it was meant to be, how it was always meant to be. He tugged up her skirts then, delighted when she made no move to stop him. It seemed like forever since they had had one another in an exhilarating frenzy in one of the darkened hallways of the Red Keep. Robert was gone, most of his men with him. Jaime had ordered those on duty with him to the other side of the castle so he knew they would not be caught.<p>

Cersei's legs came to wrap around his waist then, her deft hands coming to unlace him. He groaned as her touch found his bare hardness, his hands clenching further around her thighs and lifting her slightly so he could join them as one as they were supposed to be. Before he could slip into her perfection there was a scuffle behind them and she shoved at him at once, his hands releasing her so she could lower her feet back to the floor. He whirled around, his hands coming to lace himself back up and he could have laughed when he saw the source of the noise. It was one of those blasted direwolves. Which one he didn't know and he didn't care. He turned back to Cersei then and saw the relief shining in her eyes.

"Get out of here," he barked at the wolf then, waving his hand dismissively.

The wolf stared at him for a long moment before it turned and padded down the hallway, rounding the corner and out of his sight. He turned back to his sweet sister then and he knew just from the look on her face that he would not be getting anything from her tonight. Damn wolf. He'd been so damn close.

* * *

><p>Bran woke with a start, pushing his hair from his sweaty forehead as he breathed hard. He had been in Summer's mind. He had seen through his wolfs mind. It wasn't the first time. He often roamed around the hallways of the Red Keep or out in the grounds with his wolf. Sometimes Summer would hunt and Bran would feel like it was him that was leaping gracefully through the air and sinking his teeth into the flank of an unsuspecting stag. This was the first time he had ever come across something like that though, something so shocking. Part of him wasn't quite certain what had been happening but he knew that no brother and sister should ever be doing what the Queen and Ser Jaime had been. The Queen was married to the King, she shouldn't be kissing any other man, least of all her twin brother.<p>

As his breathing returned to normal he began to think long and hard about what to do with this information. He knew he should tell his father but that would mean admitting that his mind was somehow connected to Summer's and he wasn't sure what the reaction to that would be. Surely something like that wasn't normal? His father might not even believe him but Bran knew what he had seen. He pulled his blankets off him then and swung his legs over the side of the bed, his feet touching the cold stone floor. After a moment of thought he went to the door and cracked it open just far enough that he could slip out into the hallway and made his way towards Arya's bed chamber. He knocked softly at her door but heard nothing. After a moment he knocked harder and this time he heard her irritated groan and wondered if perhaps he should have gone to Sansa instead.

He dismissed that at once, Sansa loved being fawned over by the Queen and she would never believe her capable of performing such a depraved act with her own brother. Sansa would call him a liar. Sansa would tell him to keep his mouth shut. Arya would tell him what to do. Arya would persuade him to tell father and that's what he needed her to do. She opened the door then with a look of pure fury on her face and he opened his mouth to speak before she could launch an attack on him.

"It's important," he said quickly.

"It better be," she snarled at him, stepping aside so he could enter her room.

As soon as he closed the door he blurted it all out. He told her everything. How he could see into Summer's mind and how he often ran with him in his sleep. Then he told her what he had seen the Queen and Ser Jaime doing through his wolf's eyes and her own eyes widened to such an extent that he thought they might fall out of her head.

"You have to tell father," she told him firmly, just as he had known she would.

"What if he doesn't believe me?" he asked her fearfully.

"He will, he has to," she said with conviction.

"It's not normal is it?" he said quietly then and she sighed heavily.

"Sometimes I dream through Nymeria's eyes," she confessed then and he stared at her.

"Truly?" he asked her hopefully.

"Truly," she confirmed, "now go back to bed, I'll come for you in the morning and we will go and speak with father together."

* * *

><p>Jory had only just come to wake him and they were sharing a drink of hot, sweet tea when there was an almighty pounding on Ned's door. He snapped his head around and Jory, who was closer to the door, stood up to open it. Bran and Arya appeared after a moment and Ned was about to scold them for being so disruptive when he saw the look in his son's eyes.<p>

"What is it?" he asked at once.

"I …" Bran started, glancing at Arya for guidance and his sister nodded encouragingly.

"He saw something," Arya piped up then as Bran showed no sign of speaking.

"Something you shouldn't I'm guessing?" Ned said then and Bran managed to nod.

"He's worried you won't believe him because he saw it through Summer," Arya said then.

"What do you mean saw it through Summer?" Ned questioned with a frown.

"He dreams inside his wolfs head, just like I do with Nymeria sometimes," Arya said.

"Dreams?" Ned repeated.

"It's real," Arya said stubbornly, "what we dream is what is really happening, but we see it through them"

"Right," Ned nodded, it sounded mad but for some reason he believed his daughter. All this talk of being inside a wolf's head could wait for now anyway – right now he needed to know what Bran had seen to have seemingly rendered him mute; "Bran?" he coaxed softly.

"I saw the Queen," Bran began quietly and Ned's heart pounded.

"And?" he urged him, seeing Jory frowning from the corner of his eye.

"She was with Ser Jaime," Bran continued.

"Go on," Ned pressed him.

"They were … they were …" Bran struggled with the words.

"They were kissing," Arya said then, "and not like a brother and sister should"

"Bran is this true?" Ned asked in a deathly whisper.

"It's true father," he said, looking up to meet his gaze, "I swear it"

"I believe you," Ned nodded after a moment and he saw Bran's relief.

"My Lord …" Jory started then.

"Listen to me, you two must not speak of this to anyone do you understand me?" Ned questioned them and they nodded.

"We promise father," Arya said.

"Promise," Bran echoed at her side.

"Good … Jory, I need you to be ready at a moment's notice to get the children away from the Capitol," Ned continued.

"I'll be ready," Jory promised.

"Good," Ned managed a grim smile, "things are about to get incredibly dangerous."

* * *

><p><em>Winterfell<em>

* * *

><p>Dany took a deep breath and smoothed her hands once more down the silk of her skirts as she stood at the top of the stairs. Her body was clad in the dress that Robb had insisted she had made for the name day feast. She felt utterly beautiful in the dress, knowing that it clung to her womanly shape in all the right places, her breasts that had always been rather small were boosted by the tight fit of the bodice. They would never be as ample as Adele's but they looked rounded enough in the dress and she tried not to imagine Robb's eyes on her as she began to slowly descend the stairs. There was already music and laughter spilling out from the dining hall and when she slipped round the doors she was met with a scene of celebration that instantly brought a smile to her face. Before she knew it there was a glass of wine in her hand and Loral was before her, crushing her into her arms for a moment before telling her how beautiful she looked.<p>

Others threw compliments her way as she walked further into the hall but her eyes slid towards the top table to find Robb. When their eyes met she shuddered involuntarily and raised her glass to her lips as his eyes slid from hers to roam the entirety of her body. Just feeling his eyes on her made her stomach clench with what she could only imagine to be desire and in the next moment she saw him get to his feet and walk towards her.

"Happy name day," he said to her and she smiled at him, causing him to blink rather rapidly.

"Thank you," she returned and he smiled at her for a moment, suddenly at a loss of what to say.

"Would you like to dance?" he finally asked and she looked delighted.

"I would," she said and he held his hand out for her.

When she placed her small, soft hand in his he wanted nothing more than to drag her into his arms and press his lips to hers. He wanted to explore every inch of her and possess her entirely and the thought almost scared him as he looked down into her violet eyes. Was he imagining the look of want in them? He blinked then and stepped closer to her, placing his other hand gently on her waist as hers came to rest on his shoulder. They began to dance then, a mere inch between their bodies that he was aching to close. He glanced about and saw Theon and Adele dancing in much the same manner, only it seemed they had little trouble closing the gap between them. As it was there didn't seem to be a gap. Robb ached to have that confidence that seeped from Theon. He wished he could be that assertive, to take that extra step and pull Dany's body to his. If he had even an iota of the daring Theon had then he would have kissed her out by the hot springs. He would have grabbed her wrist and stopped her from going. He would have pressed his lips to hers. If he could go back he would do it.

He couldn't though. It was done. He had failed.

Her hand twitched in his then and he looked down to see her already looking up at him. The intensity of her gaze made his heart speed up alarmingly and incredibly he managed to take a tiny step towards her. They were close enough now to feel the heat coming from one another's bodies and Robb imagined that if he were to press himself to her he might just catch fire. Desire was stirring him uncomfortably as it was and the last thing he needed was for anyone to notice. He pushed it to the back of his mind and simply gazed down at Dany. He could look into her eyes for eternity and never get bored of them. If only he could. _I love you_, he said in his head then and he could have sworn that her eyes seemed to shine a little brighter as he thought it.

* * *

><p>Everyone was caught up in watching Jon opening his gifts. He was going first as his name day had come a few days before Dany's but he had declined opening his gifts then so he and Dany could both do so at the feast. Theon had no interest in watching the bastard get presents though, he hadn't got him anything, so he all but dragged Adele out into the hallway instead. She giggled at him as he pulled her down a darkened hallway and shoved her into an alcove. She had had more than a few glasses of wine, her face was flushed prettily and her hair was coming loose from its previously perfect style. He pressed his lips to hers then and she moved hers all too willingly with his, to his surprise and delight, running her tongue along his bottom lip to ask for access. He gave her it willingly and their tongues slid together in perfect harmony. He could taste the Arbor Gold on her and he revelled in the sweetness of it. In the sweetness of her.<p>

After a time he let his lips come down to her neck and her hands fisted in his hair as his own dropped to gather up her skirts. He felt her tense but he didn't stop. He wouldn't make a move to take her maidenhead, he wouldn't, not when she had so firmly denied him. That didn't mean he couldn't do other things to her though. He just wanted to make her come. He wanted to hear her reach that ultimate pleasure and cry out his name. He wanted to taste her, to know if she tasted that sweet everywhere.

"Theon," she gasped out in protest as he bunched her skirts up around her hips.

"Do you trust me?" he breathed against the skin of her neck, nipping at her lightly.

"We can't do this!" she said breathlessly.

"I won't take your honour," he promised her, kissing her once more before lowering himself to his knees.

"Theon what are you doing?" she asked him as he wrapped his hands around her thighs.

"I just want to taste you," he said huskily.

"What do you …?" she began but her question cut off with a pleasurable gasp as his tongue made its way between her legs.

She should stop him. Oh Gods she should stop him but she couldn't find any words as his tongue worked harder, delving deeper and causing her to moan out wantonly. Surely this was a sin? Surely letting him manipulate her body in such an intimate way was a sin? Yes, she had let him kiss her, had willingly kissed him back, and snuck her hands under his doublet to feel the hard muscles of his stomach. Had allowed him to touch her breasts, to kiss her breasts, to toy with them and make her almost wild with desire. But this? Surely this was too much?

Her mind spun then and her legs began to tremble beneath her. What in the name of the Gods was Theon doing to her? How was he managing to do this to her? Breathless cries and moans were leaving her mouth now as he continued his ministrations, her stomach tightening so hard in knots that she thought it was likely to explode. As she thought that it felt as though she did. The knots uncoiled and every single inch of her body felt tremendous release flooding through it. She moaned out again at the unfamiliar but exceptional sensation, crying out to the Gods. Crying out to Theon.

He savoured her release for a long moment. He had not been disappointed, she tasted just as good as he had imagined her to. Regretfully he made to rise to his feet then, tugging her skirts back down as he stood and looked into her eyes that were glazed over and ever so slightly unfocused. He stepped closer to her then, placing his hands on her waist and trailing light kisses across her cheek, hearing her ragged breathing in his ear.

"Are you alright?" he breathed.

"Oh Gods … yes," she almost gasped and he grinned.

"I'm glad," he whispered, "you are the most delicious thing I have ever had"

"I …" she started, blushing slightly, "can I … pleasure you?" she asked almost shyly and he could have exploded in his breeches right then and there.

"Oh Gods yes," he repeated her earlier words back to her, "but not now …" he said regretfully, "someone will have heard _that_"

"I'm sorry," she flushed and he pressed his lips to hers reassuringly.

"Don't apologise," he breathed, "I rather like the sound of you screaming my name."

* * *

><p>Dany scolded Robb as he handed her a small box with ribbon tied around it. Her dress was her name day gift and she had not expected him to get her anything else. He merely grinned at her and she couldn't help but smile back as he urged her to open it. She did as he bid, pulling the ribbon away and easing the lid from the box. Inside was a bracelet, a simple, delicate silver thing that had a small chunk of amethyst hanging from it. She was lost for words as her fingers came to inspect the jewel, it didn't have a definitive shape to it but it could be a rough heart. Her own pounded at the though. Had Robb chose it intentionally, was there some other meaning to his gift. She rolled the gem between her fingers then and glanced at him. He met her eyes and inclined his head ever so slightly and she knew that he had chosen it intentionally. The thought made her simultaneously want to burst with happiness and burst into tears.<p>

"Thank you Robb, it's beautiful," she whispered.

"I'm glad you like it," he said truthfully and they smiled at one another for a moment.

"There is one more here," Catelyn interrupted then and Dany turned to her.

"Who is this from?" she asked curiously.

"I have no idea," Catelyn told her, "perhaps Ned sent it from the Capitol"

"I already had Lord Stark's gift," she said as she tore the thick paper from the gift. Lord Stark's gift had been a simple letter telling her she could have as much of the good wine as she wanted. She had always favoured the expensive Dornish wines that were kept down in the cellars. Usually their consumption was limited but for a short time only Dany could have as much as she pleased and it had brought a smile to her face that Lord Stark had considered her. He must be terribly busy in the Capitol but he had found time to write to her and that made her happy.

She pulled the paper away from the ornate wooden box then and gasped in surprise at how finely made it was. Again, she pondered who could have got her such a thing as she ran her hands over the smooth carvings, glancing at Robb slightly, wondering if this was another gift from him. He looked just as puzzled as she did though and so she pushed that thought away.

"Open it," Theon said impatiently then.

She did as she was told, slowly lifting the heavy lid. There was a note in there atop three things that seemed to take the breath from her as she stared at them. She lifted the note but her eyes did not come away from the contents of the box.

"Are they …?" Robb began.

"Dragons," Dany breathed then, her free hand going to touch one of them, the stone felt curiously warm under her touch.

"Cold stones," Theon said then, his own hand going to touch another of the eggs.

"Beautiful though," Adele breathed next to him, her eyes wide as she gazed on them.

"Can I?" Jon gestured then and she nodded. He placed his own hand to one then and was surprised by how warm it was.

"Who sent them?" Catelyn asked her then and Dany finally turned her attention to the note. There were only four words written across it, none of them bearing the name of the person who had sent her such a precious gift.

_Remember who you are. _

* * *

><p><em>The Wall<em>

* * *

><p>Benjen stared out ahead of him as the chains clanked and groaned, the passage under the Wall slowly being revealed to him. He had stood in this spot what felt like thousands of times but he had never once felt as afraid as he did now. There were thirty men behind him, the Old Bear had tried to get him to take more but Benjen had refused. They drew enough attention as it was without taking foolish numbers. Ranging was meant to be done in groups of three or four. Benjen knew more were needed this time but thirty seemed like too many. He knew damn well that likely half of them would never live to return to Castle Black. He could only hope that he would be part of the lucky half.<p>

Benjen swallowed hard as the entrance to the tunnel was fully revealed, the clanking noises ceasing and being replaced by what he could only describe as a deafening silence. He glanced back at his fellow brothers then and smiled grimly at them, his gloved hand coming automatically to rest on the hilt of his sword. His other hand came up then to grab his horse's reins. When he stepped forward he could hear the crunch of thirty other footsteps and he steeled himself before walking purposefully into the tunnel. He could see the light at the other end and he took another deep breath as he walked towards it, inwardly praying that he would live to walk back through this tunnel once more.

* * *

><p><em>King's Landing<em>

* * *

><p>"What is it?! What's going on?!" Ned demanded as he shoved his way down the hallways that were milling with people shouting various things.<p>

"It's Robert," Renly addressed him, his face grave.

"What about him?" Ned asked, the colour draining from his own face.

"He's been gored by a boar," Renly told him and Ned stared at him.

"What?" he whispered.

"They're bringing him in now, the Maester is waiting but …" Renly tailed off.

"But?" Ned repeated.

"It's not good my Lord, I don't see how he will live … it tore right through him," he said shakily.

"Gods," Ned breathed then, the only thing he could manage.

How could this happen now? Robert couldn't die. Not now. Not now when Ned had just discovered the truth about the Lannister's. He glanced at Renly then and wondered if he should say something to Robert's youngest brother. No. No not Renly. He would have to tell Stannis. If he told Stannis it would give Cersei a chance to get away with her children. As abominable as her actions had been it was not the fault of her children. They were innocent, enough innocent blood had already coated the walls of the Red Keep and Ned wouldn't be responsible for any more. He had thought to warn Cersei, to tell her that he knew the truth about her and her children but Jory had talked him out of it and thank the Gods that he had for now Robert was gravely injured and Ned didn't think he had it in him to tell his friend the truth now on his death bed. What good would that do? Better Robert have a peaceful death and then Ned could get word to Stannis. Once that was done he would be getting as far away from the Capitol as possible. Jory was ready to take the children at his command and he would follow them on when he had done what was necessary. It was past time he went home.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Dun Duuuun! Hope you guys enjoyed!

:)


	11. Time to Fly

**A/N: **New chapter as promised! This one's all set in King's Landing so I think you might be able to guess what that means!

Hope you all enjoy - please let me know!

:)

* * *

><p><strong>Time to Fly<strong>

* * *

><p><em>King's Landing<em>

* * *

><p>Now was his chance. Now, while Cersei was with Robert, while she was in there with her children saying their final goodbye he would make sure his own children were sent safe and far from harm. They all had their wolves, and they would have Jory. He had wanted to send them with more men but he couldn't risk them looking suspicious – he had sent one man down to the smiths with a bag of coin and a request that Tobho send Gendry off with Yoren of the Night's Watch. If things grew ugly here as he was certain they would then Robert's bastards may soon find themselves in danger. No one was safe until the Lannister's were away from the throne.<p>

Ned hurried up the steps of the Hand's tower, bursting into his own chambers and seeing Jory waiting just as he had asked him to.

"Now?" his loyal friend asked him.

"Now," Ned nodded and Jory mirrored his gesture, a grim look on his face.

"I'll get them away my Lord," he promised.

"I'll not be far behind but don't wait for me, keep moving," Ned implored him.

"We will my Lord, I promise you," Jory swore.

"Protect them … do all you can," Ned said, trying not to let emotion overcome him.

"I will guard them as if they were my own children," Jory said and Ned nodded.

"Safe travels," he whispered then.

"And you my Lord," Jory nodded.

Ned gripped him in a fierce brotherly embrace for a moment then before he stamped from the room, hearing Jory following him out. He wished he could stay and explain it to his children but he had to get back to Robert before anyone noticed he had gone amiss. He needed to keep himself calm and collected lest anyone suspect him. He had already slipped the letter to another of his men and they had gone to send it from the raven's tower when everyone was in uproar. Ned was confident that he wouldn't have been seen and that the truth would soon be in the hands of the rightful heir to the throne. He would raise his banners for Stannis if it came to it but first he would have to escape this snake's nest with his head.

He tried not to make eye contact with anyone as he pounded down the hallways towards Robert's chambers lest they catch the truth in them. Keeping calm was his priority, he had to keep a cool head until he was certain that Jory had got the children away. Getting them out of the Capitol shouldn't be too difficult, Ned only hoped they would have a good enough head start and be far enough away to be safe when anyone thought to look for them. He came to a halt outside Robert's chambers then, pleased that it was not Jaime Lannister guarding them, and took a deep breath before he pushed open the door.

* * *

><p>"But I don't understand! I don't <em>want <em>to go!" Sansa protested again.

"Will you _shut up_!" Arya whispered at her furiously and Jory was glad she had.

"Come on, into the stables all of you," Jory ushered them in now he was certain that no one was around.

"I want to see father," Sansa demanded then and Jory sighed.

"Listen to me," he began, looking her in the eye, "your father is following us on, but he asked me to take you all ahead"

"But why?!" she exclaimed, "I don't understand, why would he make me leave?! I'm to marry the Prince – I can't go!"

"Sounds like even more reason to go," Arya muttered so only Bran could hear and her brother managed a small smile.

"My Lady we are leaving," Jory said firmly, "now the three of you just keep quiet while I ready the horses"

"Shouldn't someone be a lookout?" Arya asked.

"If someone spots one of you lurking around you're bound to be noticed," Jory said.

"I could climb up onto the roof and lookout?" Bran suggested and he hesitated. The boy was a good climber and a lookout would be helpful.

"Alright," Jory agreed, "can you whistle?"

"Yes," Bran nodded.

"Whistle if you see someone coming," Jory told him and he nodded again.

"I'll help you with the horses," Arya said, "best we do it quickly"

Sansa watched them then, Bran sneaking out of the door and Arya and Jory moving to the back of the stables to saddle up the horses. In a split second she made her decision. If they wanted to go back to the cold North then that was fine, but she was staying here in the sun with her Prince. She slipped from the door then, clicking her fingers so Lady came to her side, pulling her cloak up over her head and running as fast as she could away from the stables, knowing that Bran would not have yet had time to climb onto the roof. She was meant to stay here and marry the Prince and give him heirs and be the Queen someday. Once she was out of sight of the stables she slowed her pace, looking back over her shoulder to check that no one was pursuing her. She decided she would go to the Godswood, if Jory came looking he would likely go back to the tower of the Hand. He wouldn't think to look in the Godswood and so that was where she would stay until she was sure he was no longer searching.

* * *

><p>"Ready," Jory said as he pulled the fastened the final strap of the saddle meant for his own horse.<p>

"Ready," Arya agreed with him and he nodded, turning to fetch Sansa and Bran.

"My Lady?" he said as he saw no sign of her in the stable, "Lady Sansa?"

"Sansa come out it's not funny we have to go!" Arya insisted but there was nothing but silence.

Jory felt panic heighten then and he hurried outside, looking up onto the roof and seeing a dark shape he could only assume was Bran. If Sansa had left the stables then surely he would have seen her?

"Bran?!" he hissed up and he saw him shift slightly.

"Is it time to go?" Bran asked him quietly.

"Yes, get down," Jory said and the boy began to move, "have you seen your sister?" he asked him when he was safely back on the ground again.

"No," he said, shaking his head, "I saw a few small folk but no women"

"Come on, back in the stable," Jory told him, casting a look about him before he too went in.

"Where's Sansa?" Bran was asking Arya when he entered.

"I don't know, she must have snuck off – stupid Sansa," Arya almost snapped.

"She must have gone before Bran got up onto the roof," Jory almost moaned, "listen … you two stay here and stay hidden do you understand me?"

"Yes," Arya nodded.

"I'm going to find her, I will be back as soon as I can I promise you," Jory swore.

He hurried from the stables then and Arya and Bran exchanged a worried glance. Arya quietly seethed as Bran looked around for a good hiding place, she left it to him, he had always been better than her when they played the game. Even Robb would find it difficult to find him and he knew every inch of Winterfell. She shook her head then and tried not to think about Robb and home and their mother. They still had a very long journey ahead of them if they were to get back to the North. She shuddered slightly and silently prayed that Jory would come back soon.

* * *

><p>Ned finally felt like he could breathe once Cersei and her children were dismissed by Robert. Tommen and Myrcella both had had tears streaming down their faces and even Joffrey looked rather troubled. Cersei didn't even show a flicker of emotion as she walked from the room and Ned could practically feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. Why was this happening? Why did Robert have to go on a damned hunting trip and leave him to discover the depraved truth? Could he not have refrained from drinking so much and showing off? Ned sighed then. Of course he couldn't. Robert could never refrain, that had always been his problem. Food. Drink. Girls. He couldn't say no, had never even tried to say no. Gods if only Jon Arryn had managed to tell Robert the truth before his untimely death, then Ned would never have had to deal with any of this.<p>

Robert let out a great shuddering breath then and Ned looked up to meet his eyes, trying to ignore the stab of guilt in the pit of his stomach. He couldn't tell his friend the truth, not now. The shock would likely kill him. Robert should be allowed to go to the Gods in peace and so Ned would keep his mouth shut until the last breath left him and then he would fly.

"Ned …" Robert rasped out then and he moved himself closer.

"What is it?" Ned asked him softly, "Do you need something more for the pain?"

"Damn the pain … I'm dying Ned … I need you to promise me …" Robert managed and Ned closed his eyes at the painful memory.

"_Promise me Ned"_

He'd promised her and now he would promise Robert whatever it was he wanted even if it was a lie because what else could he do?

"What would you ask of me?" Ned questioned.

"Joffrey …" he gasped, "guide him right Ned … don't let … them … take him over …"

"I'll do all I can," Ned said. It wasn't a complete lie, there would be time enough for Joffrey and the others to flee.

"Don't let them … _Lannister's _… get their … claws into him," Robert implored him.

"I'll do everything to stop them taking over," he promised, that much at least was true.

"Thank you," Robert breathed, his eyes closing, "you've … been a true friend … to me Ned … I am … sorry for … for dragging you … here …"

"I forgive you," Ned tried to chuckle and Robert coughed violently as he tried to join in.

"You're a … good man Ned …" he said then, his eyes closing again.

This time Ned knew that they wouldn't be opening again and he sighed heavily. He stood from his chair then and reached his hand out to press his fingers to Robert's neck. His thought had been right. There was no pulse beneath his touch and he moved his hand away, his eyes closing for a moment in silent prayer. When he opened them again he had to push his friend's passing to the back of his mind. He had to move.

Pycelle was on the other side of the door when he opened it and he faltered slightly. Maybe it would be better this way? Better that it was Pycelle he told, the old Maester could tell Cersei himself and hopefully it would give him enough time to get out. Gods he hoped that Jory had already got away with the children.

"Lord Stark?" Pycelle looked at him questioningly then.

"He's gone," Ned said and the old man sighed heavily, nodding his head slightly before shuffling into the room.

Ned moved his feet then, he moved them as fast as he dared as he moved down hallway after hallway praying over and over to the Gods that he had enough time.

* * *

><p>Jory snapped his head around as the bells began to toll. That could only mean one thing – that the King had lost his fight for life. Panic rose up in him then as he tried to decide what was best to do. Lord Stark had implored him to get his children safely away <em>before <em>the death of the King but he had failed to do so. Not only that but he had lost one of the said children. He had looked everywhere he could think of for Sansa but he had not found her and now the bells were tolling his already limited time had just run out. He bit down on his lip and prayed that the Gods and Lord Stark would forgive him as he broke into a run.

Thankfully there was no one around when he reached the stables, hurrying inside and glancing around for Bran and Arya. For a second he thought that they had disappeared on him too but then he remembered that he had told them to hide.

"Bran?! Arya?!" he hissed into the darkness and in the next moment he heard shuffling noises and in another moment they had both appeared.

"Where's Sansa?" Arya asked at once.

"I couldn't find her," Jory said in a slight panic, "get up onto the horses, come on – we have to go"

"But what about Sansa?" Bran protested as Arya clambered onto her horse.

"If we stay we'll never get away," Jory told him, picking him up and placing him atop his own mount.

"We're leaving her?" Arya asked sharply and Nymeria whined at the side of her horse.

"What choice do I have Arya?!" Jory asked desperately, "Your father trusted me to get you away – I have already failed Sansa, I won't fail you two!"

"But what if they hurt her?" Bran questioned and Jory tried to ignore the stab in his stomach as he mounted his own horse.

"They won't," he said as he dug his heels into the horse, "she's betrothed to the Prince remember?"

"Only he's King now," Arya said quietly as she urged her own horse to follow Jory's out of the stable.

They would take the back streets through the poorest parts of town. Jory had ridden the route with Lord Stark on three separate occasions and they had not once seen a Gold Cloak patrolling along the streets. It was just as well, they were hardly inconspicuous with two great direwolves at their side. Even a half-wit would know that they were Stark's. Jory tried not to think about how that might affect them once they were out on the open road. First he had to concentrate on actually getting them to the open road and he urged them to go a little faster and tried to ignore the guilt over Sansa that was twisting his stomach in knots. Thinking of what could happen to her made him think of his own Serra and the thought of his own daughter in her place made him feel sick. Gods he hoped that Lord Stark would forgive him – that he would understand that he had precious little choice.

* * *

><p>"Bring me Ned Stark," Cersei commanded coldly to the group of Gold Cloaks.<p>

The all murmured their agreement and bowed lowly to her before making their way towards the doors. Varys kept his expression smooth as he watched them but inside his mind was working furiously. He didn't know what Cersei had planned for Lord Stark but he knew that it wouldn't be good. Stark meeting a nasty fate would do nothing for Varys' own plans and so he slipped out of a side door as he heard Cersei calling out to the Gold Cloaks again.

"And bring me his children!"

* * *

><p>Ned could hear the clanking of armoured footsteps approaching him and he tried to keep his expression smooth and his steps purposeful as a group of four Gold Cloaks rounded the corner.<p>

"Lord Stark! You are to be brought before the Queen!" one of them shouted.

Ned stopped then, his mind torn. If he went before Cersei then he might never see the light of day again. On the other hand he had done nothing wrong, she would be foolish indeed to harm him and risk the North rising up. Ned knew his son well enough to know that if anything happened to him the banners would be called at once. Cersei wasn't a fool. If the North rose up the Riverlands would follow – Stannis would soon join them too once he received Ned's letter.

Then again, he could just run.

He had never been the reckless one. That had been Brandon. That had been Lyanna. Their own fates probably should have cautioned him against such a foolish course of action but he had already whirled around and forced his legs into a sprint that he had not managed for years. He heard the Gold Cloaks call out to caution him, their clanking footsteps following after him but growing fainter and fainter. He was faster than them as he did not have the armour weighing him down but his legs were growing tired and his heart felt like it would burst from his chest as his breaths grew harder and harder to draw.

Ned ran down hallway after hallway, taking turn after turn until he no longer knew where he was and he had to stop, leaning heavily against a pillar and breathing hard. He could no longer hear a pursuit but he knew that it wouldn't be long before more of them caught up to him. He had done it now. He had run. He had made himself look guilty.

"He ran! We have to find Stark!"

The voice echoed down the hallway and other shouts followed. They weren't close enough yet but they soon would be and Ned felt nothing but despair as he leant against the pillar and tried to get his mind to work. He needed to think. He needed a plan. He had to get out of here, get himself back to Winterfell, back to Catelyn and back to his children. Oh Gods … what if he never saw them again?

"Lord Stark?" the voice came from right behind him and he jumped.

"Varys?" he said in utter shock, still breathing hard from his run.

"They will be here in seconds," Varys told him, "if you want to live I suggest you come with me."

* * *

><p>Jaime watched as Cersei paced up and down, she was growing more and more frantic with every minute that went by with no sign of the Stark's. None of the Gold Cloaks had yet returned and Jaime was now starting to feel a creeping sense of unease as he and Cersei waited alone in the throne room. He knew better than to admit that to his sweet sister though, if she knew that he was worried it would only heighten her own dread. Likely she would be hysterical and one thing he could not stand was hysterical women.<p>

"How difficult can it be to rouse them from their beds and bring them here?!" she demanded then, stopping dead in her pacing and looking at Jaime accusingly.

"I don't know what you want me to do about it … I did offer to help …" he drawled back.

"Useless," she spat, "just useless, the whole damned lot of them!"

"Would you calm down," he sighed.

"Calm down?" she repeated and he instantly regretted his careless words.

"Cersei …" he started but she rounded on him in an instant.

"You tell me to calm down when Ned Stark is loose with his brats?! He could know something – he could know anything!" she raged.

"Or he could know nothing," Jaime soothed her but she was not placated.

"Something isn't right," she muttered distractedly, "I just know it …"

He knew better than to argue with her so he just let his eyes follow her progress as she resumed her pacing. Gods he hoped she wrong. Surely she was. If Ned Stark had discovered the truth about him and Cersei then he would have run and told Robert at once. Even from his death bed the great oaf could have ordered their arrests, ordered their heads to be skewered onto spikes atop the walls. No guards had come to them though. Robert had died in ignorance, just the way it was meant to be. Cersei had got her wish – he hadn't returned from the hunting trip. Jaime had thought she might be a little happier that she no longer had to suffer being married to such an intolerable letch and that her precious son was now set to seat the Iron Throne. She wasn't happy though. She hadn't even cracked a smile. She was hell-bent on finding the Stark's and Jaime knew she would not be satisfied until they were in her grasp.

* * *

><p>"They're looking for Lord Stark," Renly said as he paced his chambers.<p>

"So?" Loras asked.

"So … you don't send Gold Cloaks after someone you mean to have a friendly chat with!" Renly spat at him and he sighed.

"You think they mean him harm?" he questioned him.

"I think they mean harm to anyone who is not a Lannister," Renly said darkly.

"Yourself included?" Loras asked him, a frown creasing his brow now.

"Why not?" Renly asked, his eyes panicked.

"You're still Joffrey's uncle," he tried to soothe him.

"That boy is all Lannister … and all rotten, there is nothing of Robert in him," Renly said, shaking his head.

"Then what will you do? Go back to Storm's End?" Loras questioned him.

"No," he said distractedly, "no they will expect that … I can't go there"

"But if you're this worried you can't stay here!" Loras protested.

"No," he agreed again, clenching his fists slightly.

"Do you think Lord Stark knows something?" Loras asked him then.

"Yes," Renly nodded, "he knows something … they wouldn't be hunting him otherwise, whatever it is it could bring down the Lannister's"

"Then we need to get out, we need to leave lest we are brought down with them," Loras implored.

"Yes," Renly nodded, "yes … you're right … we'll ride for Highgarden."

* * *

><p>Cersei turned sharply towards the doors as a group of Gold Cloaks appeared. At first she had thought they had returned empty handed but then she saw Sansa Stark clamped between two of them. The girl was deathly pale and seemed to be trembling slightly and Cersei instantly wanted to rage at them. If they had undone all the hard work and false smiles and praise she had lavished on Sansa then she would not be held responsible for her actions.<p>

"What do you think you're doing?!" she snapped, "Unhand her at once - that is your future Queen you have there!"

"Our apologies your Grace," one of the men holding Sansa said as they released their grip.

"Where are the others?!" she demanded then.

"We only found this one, she was out in the Godswood. The tower of the Hand stands abandoned – Lord Stark fled when we found him," he reported.

"Then why didn't you catch up to him?!" she hissed furiously.

"We tried your Grace, but he is nowhere to be found, nor are the other children," he said.

"Bloody fools!" she almost screamed at them, "Get out there and don't you dare return without Lord Stark and his children!"

They all bowed and fled then and Cersei tried her hardest to get her temper under control. Losing her composure in front of Sansa had not been her intention but the damned Gold Cloaks were all incompetent idiots. She would be making some changes just as soon as Ned Stark and his brats were rounded up. He had run, damn it all he had run and now she was even more terrified that the man had discovered her secret. If he knew the truth about her precious children then they would all be in danger. She would have to send men out. If Ned Stark had fled then she was certain that he would be making his way back to his bleak North to call his banners. She snapped her head to Sansa then and the girl looked at her with apprehension in her eyes as Cersei tried to work out from her expression if she knew anything about where her father and siblings had gone.

Sansa tried not to cringe as the Queen stared at her. Something was wrong. The Queen had always been so kind to her and yet now she had sent Gold Cloaks after her and the rest of her family. What could her father possibly have done to warrant them to come after them? Surely he would never have done anything wrong, he had been the King's loyal friend and Sansa was certain that he would stay loyal to Joffrey. After all, they would all be kin soon enough. Worry stirred in her chest now and she could not beat it down. Something was so very wrong. She had known it as soon as the Gold Cloaks stepped into the Godswood and roughly hauled her to her feet. She had tried to protest, to ask them what was going on but they had only told her that she was to be brought before the Queen. Now she had been brought and yet the Queen still said nothing, she merely kept staring at her with those suspicious green eyes.

Oh Gods. Why had she run away? Why had she not gone with Jory as her father had wanted? Had she just made the biggest mistake of her life?

"Now then little dove," Cersei finally spoke, her voice was soft and sweet but Sansa could sense the underlying fury, "why don't you tell me exactly where your father has gone?"

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Ned's gone! Woooo! I've so wanted to write a story where he didn't just die at King's Landing and now I finally have! Thoughts?

:)


	12. An Unpayable Price

**A/N: **New chapter for you lovely readers.

I hope you enjoy it, any feedback as ever would be very gratefully recieved!

**Guest:** Yes, stupid Sansa - she's made a rather naive and foolish decision!

:)

* * *

><p><strong>An Unpayable Price<strong>

* * *

><p><em>Ivy Inn, The King's Road<em>

* * *

><p>"Summer!" Bran called into the night.<p>

"Don't," Jory cautioned, "there's an inn up ahead that we can rest in … best the wolves are away for the night, fewer people will recognise us that way"

"Jory's right Bran," Arya said, "they'll come back in the morning"

Bran nodded his agreement rather sulkily and they continued on with their trot down the King's Road. Jory thought it likely Gold Cloaks would soon be looking for them but until they saw any sign of it they would stay on the road where they could make better progress. They would be forced into the wilds eventually, he knew that, but until then they would push their luck as far as they could with the road. The lanterns of the tavern were bobbing into view then and Jory quickened their pace slightly. They halted at the inn when they reached it and Jory told them to stay where they were while he had a quick look inside. Arya and Bran did as they were told and waited for their guardian to return. When he did he was smiling and both of them felt instantly more at ease.

"It's quiet, just some man from the Night's Watch and his new recruits," Jory reported.

"No sign of any Gold Cloaks?" Arya asked him as she slid from her horse.

"Nothing," Jory said, "but even so … we'll move on at first light, come on in quickly – there is a hot meal and spiced wine to be had"

They followed him in, pulling their plain cloaks more securely around them. They had shed their finery before leaving the Capitol, Arya was now in a plain but warm dress and Bran in simple breeches and a tunic. The fabrics were ordinary. They looked like ordinary small folk. That's what they had to be in the company of others. Ordinary.

"What can I do for you?" the inn-keep asked kindly then.

"A room for the night and three hot meals," Jory answered as Arya and Bran skulked behind him.

"Where are you travelling to?" the round faced man asked then.

"My children and I are returning home to Barrowtown," Jory told the man their agreed story.

"A fair way to go then," the man chuckled as he accepted Jory's coin.

"Aye," Jory agreed, "but Gods willing we'll be home before winter," he joked and the inn-keep laughed heartily.

"Take yourselves a table, your food will be brought out soon enough and I'll bring you some warm spiced wine," he said jovially.

"Thank you for your kind hospitality," Jory nodded then before seeking out the least conspicuous table for them to seat themselves at.

Arya and Bran shuffled along the bench and Jory sat himself opposite them where he had a good view of the door. He may have appeared relaxed and in good spirits with the inn-keep but every single muscle in his body was tense. He was terrified for Arya and Bran. He was terrified for Sansa left behind at the Capitol. He was terrified for Lord Stark. He was terrified at the thought of leaving his adoring wife a widow and their precious children without a father. Joren was only twelve, there were so many things left that he had to teach his boy, so many things left that he should have said to all of them before he had left Winterfell. A flagon of wine was placed down on the table then followed by three rough cut wooden cups. Jory somehow managed to tear his mind away from Loral and their children, bringing a smile to his lips and thanking the serving girl who had brought it.

Their food followed not long after and they all ate in silence. When they had cleared their plates Jory sent Bran and Arya up to the room, intending to finish off the wine and they rest his own head for a few hours. Not long after they had gone though someone came and took a seat opposite him and he lowered his cup from his lips to find himself looking at a man from the Night's Watch.

"Yoren," the man introduced himself.

"Jory," he nodded, "are you headed back to the Wall?"

"Aye," Yoren nodded, "you headed back to Winterfell?"

"Barrowtown," Jory said calmly even though his heart was pounding furiously.

"That's your story, aye," Yoren said, dropping his voice, "but I never forget a face"

"What are you saying?" Jory asked him.

"I'm saying you're Captain of the Guards at Winterfell and that you're escorting Lord Stark's children back to the North," Yoren said.

"And if I am?" Jory asked.

"Then it's no business of mine," Yoren assured him, "Winterfell has always been good to me and so have the Stark's … roads dangerous though, especially with two young 'uns."

"Aye," Jory agreed, "you're not wrong there"

"We're headed north," Yoren said then, "travel with us if you like … could use another skilled man to keep the new recruits in order"

"We're leaving at first light," Jory said.

"We're leaving an hour before," Yoren returned and they shared a smile.

"I suppose we'll be getting up an hour early then," Jory said and Yoren nodded his agreement, clapping him on the back before returning to his gaggle of recruits.

* * *

><p><em>Dragonstone<em>

* * *

><p>Ned shivered, slipping slightly on the wet stones as he stepped off the boat. The journey had been perilous, twice Ned had thought the little fishing vessel would capsize and he had not slept for the entire duration. Consequently his eyes were heavy and his mind was clouded as he staggered his way up the beach. The rain was lashing down as it always seemed to do in these parts. The last time he had been here was eighteen years ago when he had saved Dany from Robert's wrath. The crossing then had been shorter, taken from Rook's Rest rather than the Capitol. Gods if he never stepped foot on another boat again it would be too soon. He almost laughed to himself then as he realised that if he ever wanted to actually get home he would <em>have <em>to step on another boat.

A light bobbed in the darkness then and he made his way towards it as it grew ever closer. He assumed it was someone coming down with a lantern, no doubt wondering who had landed on the beach at such an hour. He was not mistaken, an old weather-worn man held the lantern up high when he reached Ned and he looked him up and down, not recognising him. He was flanked by two guards bearing the Baratheon sigil and Ned tried to find his voice.

"I need to see Stannis," he finally managed to get out, "I am Eddard Stark … and I need to see Stannis now!"

* * *

><p>Ned was still shivering despite the roaring fire as he stood waiting for Stannis to make his appearance. The room was deathly silent, he could only hear the crackle of the flames and the steady drip of water coming down from his soaked clothing. After what seemed like an eternity the door opened and Stannis strode in. They had never been firm friends but they got on well enough and in this moment Ned had never been happier to see anyone in his entire life.<p>

"They say you're a traitor … you're wanted for treason," Stannis stated.

"You know me better than that Stannis," Ned said, his teeth chattering.

"I do," Stannis agreed, stepping closer to him, "I received your raven this morning"

"And?" Ned asked him as he strode around to pour two healthy measures of wine.

"And I thank you for your loyalty to my brother and to the Baratheon family," he said, passing him a glass of the wine.

"You know what this means?" Ned asked after taking a long, grateful sip.

"I'm the rightful King of Westeros," Stannis said calmly.

"Aye," Ned agreed, "and that means war."

* * *

><p><em>King's Landing<em>

* * *

><p>Cersei drained the glass and instantly reached out to pour herself another. It wasn't enough. It would not be enough until she had Ned Stark and his brats back here. Furious wasn't the word. She was utterly livid, beyond anger and beyond fear. The terror that gripped her every second of the day never let up for a second. She was even scared in her sleep when she would watch them take their heads one at a time. Joffrey. Myrcella. Tommen. Jaime would follow, telling her he would always love her before he lay his own neck along the blood drenched block. She would scream and scream and beg but no one ever listened. Hands grabbed at her, pushing her forwards towards the block, pushing her neck down onto the blood of her children and her missing half. She would always wake then, she would wake with a scream and put her hands to her neck which would be dripping in sweat. And in her sleep deprived mind for a few horrible seconds she would imagine that that sweat was blood. The blood of those she loved most in this world.<p>

She took another long drink of wine then before she slammed the glass down on the table and looked up to consider Jaime. He had been quiet these last days. Too quiet. Ned Stark's vanishing seemed to be affecting him more than he would let on. That scared her. That scared her more than the dreams because nothing ever affected Jaime. Nothing phased him. He feared nothing. He was fearless to the point of being damn right foolish. It was something she both loved and despaired of. Her sweet Jaime. He would deny it if she accused him but she knew he was worried. His worry only served to heighten her own. She opened her mouth then, she needed him to tell her everything would be alright.

"Why have they not found him yet?" she asked.

"They will," he said and she wished she could believe him.

"What if they don't?" she demanded.

"They _will_," he repeated more forcefully.

"He knows Jaime … he knows …" she muttered distractedly, her hand fumbling for her wine glass.

"He doesn't know … and even if he did no one would believe him," Jaime assured her.

"Plenty will believe him … plenty hate us, would do anything to be rid of us!" she exclaimed almost hysterically.

"Cersei stop this," he urged her, taking the glass from her shaking hand and kneeling before her.

"They will kill us all," she whispered then, looking him dead in the eye.

"They will have to get through me first," he said forcefully and she was almost reassured.

"Promise me that no matter what happens our children will be protected," she breathed.

"I swear to you," he told her, "I swear to you that as long as there is breath in my body I will protect them and I will protect you."

She nodded then and he took her hand. She clung to it as a child would cling to their mother, not wanting to let him go. If she let him go she would be lost entirely to her fear and she was desperate to stop the darkness of it crushing her entirely.

"You need to pull yourself together," Jaime told her, "father will be arriving soon … you need to act as normally as you can, by rights you ought to be happy. Robert is gone and Joffrey is King. Father will expect you to be happy … if you continue on like this then he will suspect and you know he will not let go once his suspicions are roused …"

"I know," she whispered then and he squeezed her hand firmly as a knock sounded at the door.

Jaime dropped her hand and stood at once then, retreating to the other side of the room and seating himself before Cersei called out for her visitor to enter. It was Janos Slynt and Jaime tried not to narrow his eyes at him. The man was a menace. A corrupt menace but somehow he was still leader of the City Watch and would have to be endured – for now.

"Do you have news?" Cersei demanded shortly.

"We have searched high and low and there is no sign of Lord Stark nor his two missing children in the city," he began, "there are bands of men out looking for them but all their reports have so far shown no sign of them"

"They can't have just disappeared!" Cersei raged, jumping to her feet.

"The men will keep searching your Grace," Janos told her but she was not placated.

"Send out more men, I want the Stark's back here do you hear me?!" she demanded.

"Yes your Grace," he bowed deeply.

"Now get out of my sight!" she snapped at him and he retreated at once.

Jaime stood then and crossed to her, pulling her into his arms before she could protest. For once she didn't, she didn't push him away and tell him that it was too dangerous. She clung to him, she clung to him with all the strength that her body could muster and wished with everything that she had that he would never let go.

"We still have the girl," he murmured to her.

"You think that will stop them?" she breathed against him, her hands clutching at his doublet.

"The Stark's will not risk the little brat," he said certainly, "so long as we have her we can keep the North at bay."

* * *

><p><em>Winterfell<em>

* * *

><p>"Robb?!" Catelyn called, her footsteps quickening as she tore down hallway after hallway with the letter the Maester had brought before her clutched tightly in her hand. Several people asked her what the matter was as she raced towards the entrance hall. "Robb?!" she called out again as she passed the council chambers, glancing into them and seeing them empty. Her heart was pounding now as she reached the entrance hall, her steps slowing as she wondered whether or not to climb the stairs or go out into the yard. Where was her son? She spotted Theon through the open doors then and made up her mind, hurrying out of the doors and down the steps of the keep. "Theon!" she shouted out now and the man turned to her with a concerned expression on his face. Usually she never sought him out.<p>

"What is it Lady Stark?" he asked her.

"Robb … where is Robb?!" she asked him desperately.

"He was in the tiltyard with Jon," he answered, "are you alright my Lady?!" he called after her as she suddenly turned and tore away from him at his words.

She didn't reply, she had no time to reply. She had to get to Robb and she had to get to him now. Something was so very wrong she knew it in the core of her bones. She was almost out of breath as she reached the tiltyard, hearing the clash of swords as Robb and Jon went for one another.

"Robb!" she shouted out to him and he clashed with Jon once more before holding his hand out for peace and looking towards her.

"What is it mother?" his expression was instantly that of concern as he came towards her, seeing her eyes wide and fearful.

"This," she said, pressing the letter into his hands, "the King is dead," she went on before he had even managed to unfurl it, "there is no mention of your father nor the others … why would Ned not write to me?! Something's wrong Robb I know it!"

"Calm down," Robb urged her as his eyes scanned the letter, "father may well have sent word … ravens are often delayed or lost"

"Robb don't coddle me!" she snapped, "There is something wrong I can feel it!"

"Alright!" he almost snapped back at her, "Alright … but what would you have me do? We are thousands of leagues from King's Landing"

"If anything happens …" she whispered, shaking her head.

"What could happen? Father is a loyal and honourable man," Robb soothed her.

"Yes he is! And that's exactly why I know he's in danger! With Robert gone there is no one to shield Ned from the Lannister's!" she cried.

"Why would he need shielding from the Lannister's?" Robb asked her darkly then and she faltered at the look he bestowed on her.

"The true reason your father went to King's Landing was …" she started quietly, struggling to find the words, "… was to investigate Jon Arryn's death"

"He died of a fever," he said dismissively.

"Not according to Lysa," Catelyn told him firmly and his eyes widened, "she believes that the Lannister's had him murdered"

"Why?" Robb whispered, his own eyes full of fear now.

"I don't know Robb … that's what your father was going to find out!" she said desperately.

"And you think he has …" he started and she nodded, "and now the King is dead they have all the power … if they suspect him … if he says anything …"

"Do you see Robb?! Do you see now why I am so worried?!" she demanded.

"Yes I see," he nodded, "but there is nothing I can do mother, not yet – I cannot call the banners on a whim and a feeling"

"But …" she started.

"No," he said firmly, "if we are mistaken about this it will be too late to take it back … if I call the banners it will be seen as an intent of war"

"Then what can we do?" she asked him, desperate for him to reassure her.

"We wait," he said with a grimace, "we have no other choice … we can only wait for more news, we have to be certain."

* * *

><p>Dany found Robb later in the Godswood, having left a tearful Lady Stark in the care of Jon. From what she had worked out from Lady Stark's fractured sentences and choked sobs it seemed that Lord Stark and the other children were in danger now that the King was dead. The news of the King's demise didn't trouble her in the slightest, news of Lord Stark and the others being in danger tore at her heart. Lord and Lady Stark had always been most kind to her, they treated her just as well as they did their own children. She couldn't bear the thought of anything happening to the Stark family because to her they were her own family.<p>

Robb had his back to her as she approached him and she suddenly felt apprehensive of him. She had seen almost every side of him. Happy Robb. Angry Robb. Moody Robb. Playful Robb. All manner of Robb's. But seeing him sad and upset was something she had never encountered. He got frustrated, irritated. But he rarely got angry and she hadn't seen him cry since they were children. A small, craven part of her wanted to turn away and leave him to his own solace but she pushed it away. She couldn't leave him, not at such a time, she was ashamed with herself for even thinking it.

"Robb?" she said tentatively and he turned his head, thankfully his eyes were dry.

"Are they looking for me?" he asked and she shook her head, walking closer to him.

"No … I just wanted to make sure you were alright," she said softly, kneeling down beside him.

"I was just thinking … father always comes out here to think, he says it gives him time to sort things through in peace," he told her.

"And you thought it would help you too?" she guessed and he nodded.

"It is peaceful," he conceded after a moment, "but I still don't know what to do"

"Maybe nothing is all you can do for now," she said quietly and he nodded heavily.

"How is my mother?" he asked then.

"Upset," she said honestly, "Jon is with her though you needn't worry"

"I don't want to let anyone down Dany," he said desperately then and she moved closer.

"You could never," she whispered, laying her hand down on his shoulder.

"I wish he'd just said no!" he burst out then and she moved in front of him and wrapped her arms around his neck, not knowing what else to do.

He gripped her back, his hands clenched into fists around the soft cotton of her dress and she let one of her own hands stroke soothingly through his hair. They stayed like that for a while until it began creeping into both of them that they had never been this close to one another before. They had embraced over the years … tentatively and slightly awkwardly. There was no awkwardness in the way they were pressed so tightly together now, it felt good to be in one another's arms, as though their bodies had been made to mould so perfectly against one another's.

They both pulled back slightly at the same time so their faces were but an inch away from one another's, his blue eyes seeking her violet ones and holding them fast. His heart beat so ferociously that he thought it would burst through his chest and she moved slightly closer so he could feel her warm breath against his lips. Just one more move and their lips would touch. As he thought that she did move and his pounding heart seemed to cease beating. For a second he thought they would meet but her lips instead found his cheek.

She had been too craven to press her lips to his even though every fibre of her being was longing to feel his on hers, to move them together and finally realise that hidden desire. She let her lips brush his cheek instead, softly, lightly. Once. Twice. Three times. Her lips lingered on the fourth kiss and she felt his own press against her own cheek. Lightly. Tentatively. His next kiss was firmer, more confident and insistent and she allowed her own lips to press harder against his own cheek. He trailed kisses all across her cheek, moving closer and closer to her mouth and she mirrored his advance. He pressed his lips to the crease at the corner of her mouth then and she did the same to him before both of them pulled back a fraction. One more move. One more move would change it all. They locked eyes then. How could they? Now? Now when everything was so uncertain?

"I'm sorry," he breathed and she felt his warm breath on her cheek.

"So am I," she whispered back, tears stinging her eyes.

* * *

><p><em>Dragonstone<em>

* * *

><p>Ned woke to a pounding on the door and groaned. It was barely dawn and he doubted very much whether he had had more than a few hours of sleep. He called out grumpily that he was coming and thankfully the banging ceased. Stannis had said that they would talk more in the morning but Ned had thought that he might at least let the sun rise properly before he summoned him. He hauled himself out of bed and dressed quickly, pulling on his boots before stamping from the room. Once this meeting with Stannis was over he would write to Catelyn and tell her that he was alright, that he had sent the children away from the Capitol. Gods he hoped she wouldn't be angry with him for leaving them. It had been the only way, surely she would see that?<p>

He pulled his mind away from his wife then as he approached Stannis' council rooms, knocking lightly and hearing him tell him to enter after a few moments. Ned did as he was bid and came into the room. Stannis was not alone. He had with him the man with the lantern from the night before and a woman with deep red hair that was accentuated by the red robes she wore and the large ruby that was set in a choker about her neck.

"Lord Stark," Stannis greeted.

"My Lord … your Grace," he corrected himself and Stannis allowed him a thin smile.

"I trust you are well rested," Stannis said.

"Rested at least," Ned said wryly.

"This is Davos Seaworth," he introduced the weather-worn man.

"A pleasure my Lord," Davos said.

"Well met," Ned returned with a nod of his head.

"And Melisandre, a priestess of R'hllor," Stannis introduced the woman.

"My Lady," Ned said, trying not to feel uncomfortable as the woman gave him a searching look.

"Now formalities are done with, to the true matter at hand," Stannis said.

"I'll raise my banners for you," Ned said at once, "get me a ship to White Harbor, I will send word to my son to call the banners"

"Thank you," Stannis said with a nod, "I will send you on your way … but," he said with a glance to Melisandre, "there is something else I require from you"

"Name it," Ned said, missing the warning look that Davos sent his way.

"Your ward …" Stannis began and Ned was instantly wary.

"Theon?" he said almost hopefully, knowing it would not be him Stannis was concerned with.

"No … the Targaryen," Stannis said as he had known he would.

"She's no threat," Ned said at once.

"All rival claimants are a threat," Stannis countered him in an instant.

"She's no rival … she just a girl, a kind, sweet girl – she would never seek the throne, she has neither the desire for it nor the means to take it," Ned protested.

"Not yet perhaps," Melisandre said smoothly and Ned almost recoiled at the look it her eyes.

"Stannis …" he said, shaking his head slightly.

"I want the girl Stark," Stannis said with finality, "I want her handed over to me so the threat can be removed."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **I have a feeling some people might be wondering what the hell I'm playing at now but all I can say is, I have a plan I promise!

Any thoughts would be great!

:)


	13. The Declaration

**A/N: **Hello lovely readers! A new chapter for you all which I hope you'll all enjoy!

Just to remind you; I HAVE A PLAN! Please don't hate me.

Anyway, thoughts would be awesome so let me know what you think of it!

:)

* * *

><p><strong>The Declaration <strong>

* * *

><p><em>Dragonstone<em>

* * *

><p>"No," Ned said quietly.<p>

"Is that your final word?" Stannis asked him, his eyes narrowing.

"Yes it's my final word … Dany is part of my family, I will not hand her over to be butchered," he said, his voice shaking.

"Such a shame," Stannis said quietly and Ned heard the clank of armour behind him.

"Come now … think about this … if any harm comes to me the North will rise but not for you," he said.

"Are you threatening me Lord Stark?" Stannis asked him.

"I have near twenty thousand men! Can you really do without them?! They will not march for you if you do this!" Ned said pleadingly.

"So who will they march for?" Melisandre asked him sweetly then and Ned froze. They'd caught him in a trap. He'd condemned himself and Dany with his words.

"Take him to the cells," Stannis spat then and Ned made no more protest as strong hands gripped him.

* * *

><p>Stannis paced up and down in his chambers. His mind was racing. Had he done the right thing in arresting Ned and having him sent down into the prison? Twenty thousand was a great number to have declare for him but now he had just ensured that they wouldn't. The North would not rise for him so long as Ned was imprisoned but then he had to have the girl, that's what Melisandre had told him. She had seen it in her flames. Her God had told her that he needed the Targaryen girl – she needed to be sacrificed to make him stronger. <em>Whatever it takes. <em>

He hadn't been convinced at first by the beautiful woman in red who had so enraptured his wife and turned her away from the Faith of the Seven. But then … then Cressen had tried to poison her and she had drank it all down. Then he had dropped dead and the poison didn't touch her. He knew then that she had power and she seemed determined to use it to help him. If she was certain that they must be rid of the Targaryen girl then they must be rid of her, it was as simple as that.

It was a shame though, Ned Stark was a good man and his banners would certainly have helped. He still had his own army though, and his fleet. Renly would join with him soon enough once he discovered what had happened. With the men from the Stormlands they would have enough, then it wouldn't matter that the North was against them. What about the Riverlands though? He shook his head then – there was no point thinking about that just yet, he had more important matters to see to. Letters to write.

He looked down at the table then and cast his eyes once more over the declarations. Hundreds had been printed as soon as he had received Ned Stark's letter. Hundreds more were still being printed. These first ones would be sent out to those closest to the Crownlands. He wanted everyone to know the truth of the Royal children and he would make damn sure that every person from the richest man to the poorest woman knew. Not all would believe it but plenty would, especially as it had come from a man with an honourable reputation. Stannis ignored the pang of guilt then and sat himself heavily down, picking up a quill and searching his mind for the name of Ned Stark's eldest son.

As he was writing the letter a knock sounded on the door and he called distractedly for his visitor to enter. Whoever had come in didn't speak as Stannis continued scratching his quill against the parchment, pausing every few minutes. He didn't want to sound too threatening lest the boy call the banners – he phrased it as a simple exchange, a bartering of sorts. It was simple in Stannis' own mind, the North needed its Lord more than some Targaryen ward. Robb Stark would see reason and hand her over and once she was within his grasp Ned Stark would be free to go. As he signed his name he finally looked up to see who had come in and sighed at the look on Davos' face. He had just known the former smuggler would be against this – he was suspicious of Melisandre as Cressen had been but at least he had not tried to make an attempt on her life. A Maester could be replaced, a man of Davos' skill and worth would be harder to come by again and Stannis had no doubt that if he threatened her Melisandre would strike the man down.

"Do you need something?" he asked then.

"Your Grace," Davos started awkwardly, "are you certain imprisoning Lord Stark is the best course of action?"

"I have been assured that it is my best interests," Stannis said, "the Targaryen threat must be eliminated for me to be safe on the throne"

"Surely the Lannister's pose more of a threat?!" Davos protested.

"So what would you suggest?" Stannis asked him, standing up from the table.

"Let Lord Stark go, you can still persuade him to raise his banners for you I don't doubt it," he said.

"And leave the Targaryen?" Stannis frowned.

"Aye," Davos insisted, "I don't know what your priestess has seen in the flames but surely twenty thousand men are of more use than one woman?"

"You underestimate her," Stannis said, "I should learn from Cressen's mistake if I were you"

"Your Grace … you must know I would never …" Davos began.

"I've heard enough," Stannis cut him off, "I've made my decision – Ned Stark stays imprisoned until his son hands over the Targaryen girl!"

* * *

><p><em>Highgarden<em>

* * *

><p>"There's a bounty out on Ned Stark … and two of his children," Mace Tyrell announced.<p>

"His children?" Loras repeated.

"What in the name of the Gods did Ned discover that they would hunt down children?" Renly said distractedly as he paced the solar.

"Something that could bring down the Lannister's?" Mace suggested.

"One would think so," Olena said drily from her seat outside on the terrace.

"Mother … this is a private discussion," Mace sighed at her.

"Then perhaps you should have closed the door," she shot back at him, "besides, you could use my input, seems you have precious little facts of your own to go on"

"And what do you know?" Mace asked her impatiently and she rose gratefully to her feet.

"I know that Ned Stark took a ship to Dragonstone when he fled King's Landing," Olena said then, a half smile on her lips as Renly and Loras looked at her in shock.

"Why?" Mace asked and she almost rolled her eyes at him.

"Why indeed? Why not to White Harbour? Wouldn't that make more sense?" she said, sighing irritably when they all still stared blankly at her.

"Stannis," Renly finally said, "he's gone to Stannis"

"Well done my dear," she praised him mockingly but he seemed oblivious to her tone.

Renly exchanged an awkward glance with Loras then as his mind raced. Ned had been in a distracted mood the last time he had seen him and that was before he had been told the news of Robert. He had seemed agitated and could not quite meet his eyes. Now he thought back on it the more he thought it likely that his initial thought had been right – Ned had discovered something … something about the Lannister's. Then he had fled … fled to Stannis. Renly put his hands to his head then as he tried to find the missing link.

Olena sighed as she looked at him. Poor boy would give himself a headache if he carried on thinking so hard. She decided she would finally put them out of their misery and drew the tightly rolled parchment from up her sleeve.

"I think this might explain everything," she said, holding it out to Renly.

He took it with a slight frown, his fingers shaking slightly as he unrolled it. At first he didn't believe his eyes, bringing the declaration closer to his face so he could better inspect it. He hadn't misread it, the words read the same the second time and the third. Finally it made sense. He had the missing link. They weren't Robert's children. Of course they weren't. It seemed so obvious now that the words were staring him in the face. How could those golden haired beauties be his? Gods, Renly had seen enough of his bastards to know that the Baratheon seed was strong. He lifted his head then, his face deathly pale. With no trueborn heir Stannis had declared himself the rightful King and Renly's head was spinning.

"You need to think fast," Olena told him.

"What do you mean?" Renly asked her in a slightly dazed manner as Loras tugged the declaration from his limp grasp.

"I mean, do you want to bow down to another brother – this one possibly one of the least popular choice for King I have ever come across – or do you want to take the throne yourself," she said, looking him dead in the eye and he stared at her.

"Mother …" Mace gasped then, taking the declaration from Loras who was holding it out to him.

"You're more popular than Stannis," Loras told him then.

"But he's older than me," Renly said.

"You would have all the support of the Stormlands," Loras persuaded him.

"And Highgarden if we come to an arrangement," Mace put in then.

"What kind of arrangement?" Renly asked him.

"You would make my daughter your Queen," Mace said and Renly stiffened.

"Margaery is the most beautiful woman in the Kingdoms … she would make a perfect and popular Queen," Olena persuaded.

"And you would have the wealth and armies of Highgarden at your disposal," Mace promised.

"If I take Margaery as my Queen?" Renly checked, glancing towards Loras.

"The sooner you're wed the sooner you can take the throne," Olena told him, seeing the look that Renly and Loras exchanged.

"You were made to be King," Loras said then, his eyes not leaving his and in that moment he made up his mind.

* * *

><p><em>King's Landing<em>

* * *

><p>Sansa had been kept in her rooms since her father and siblings had fled from the Capitol. Lady had been taken away from her and she had no idea where her wolf was being kept. She only knew that she was alive because she heard her howling at night. Every night Sansa would bury her head in her pillows and cry. She cried for her mother. For her father. For her brother's and sister's and even for her wolf but it did her no good. The guards outside her door remained unmoved, the maids who would come in and draw a bath for her and bring her meals would not speak to her. Likely they had been commanded to by the Queen. She had thought that perhaps Joffrey would come to her, that he would take pity and let her out. After all, she was still his betrothed. Wasn't she? Surely if she wasn't they would send her home. There would be no use for her if the new King didn't want to marry her.<p>

They could just let her go home to her mother. Why would they not just let her go home to her mother? She had done nothing wrong. Why was she being punished?

She thought of her father then. The Queen had been desperate to find him, desperate to know where he was but Sansa didn't know. She didn't say a word about Arya or Bran either. She prayed that they were safe with Jory and that her father had caught up to them. Surely once he knew that she was still trapped at the Capitol he would do everything he could to see her released back to him. Her father would never willingly leave her here to rot. If he hadn't come for her then there must be something keeping him away. That thought made her want to cry again. She wanted her father. She wanted to go home. She wished she hadn't run from Jory. Gods, why had she run from Jory?

* * *

><p>"Have you seen this?! The nerve of him!" Cersei screeched.<p>

"Well … it is all very factually accurate …" Jaime muttered as he looked over the declaration.

"He names Joffrey a bastard!" she continued as though she hadn't heard him.

"That is his true status," he said lowly and she glared at him.

"My son is the King!" she spat.

"For now," Jaime said smoothly and her eyes flashed dangerously.

"He will continue to be, these … these … lies of Stannis' will not be tolerated!" she raged.

"Lies?" he said with a raised brow and for a moment he thought she would strike him.

"As far as _everyone_ is concerned, my children are Robert's," she hissed.

"Not everyone evidently," Jaime drawled, "come on Cersei are you really that deluded? Stannis has got information from somewhere … I would bet my sword arm that our missing Lord Stark filled him in on all the gory details"

"I knew he knew," she seethed and he sighed heavily.

"This will mean war," he told her and she blanched.

"Don't be ridiculous!" she snapped, "No one will believe this _filth!_"

"Oh please, plenty hate our family … it's only a matter of time before Stannis rallies his armies," he said certainly.

"No one likes Stannis!" she snapped.

"Better Stannis that a Lannister bastard born of incest," he said and this time she really did slap him.

He fought the urge to laugh. Cersei was deluded. She could rage at him all she wanted but the facts remained the same. Her children had no right to the throne and he was certain that Stannis would soon gather support from the Stormlands and likely Highgarden too if it was true what they said about Renly and Loras Tyrell. The North would rise for him – that was a given, and through Catelyn's Stark's ties to the Tully's the Riverlands would no doubt follow. The Vale too most likely given that Lysa Arryn was no great supporter of the Lannister's. Dorne wouldn't do a damn thing to protect them, not with the Mountain still running around free and unchecked. No, they had the Westerlands and could perhaps frighten or bribe some others to join with them. Perhaps the Frey's … that had always been a fickle lot, Walder would fight for them for the right price. Jaime snorted then, is that how desperate they had become? Considering crawling to lecherous old Lord Frey for aid?

"What's funny?!" Cersei snapped at him.

"Oh … nothing," he sighed, "or … everything, depending on how you look at it"

"If you're going to speak in riddles Jaime …" she began warningly.

"I think you need to consider the fact that we might lose this," he told her seriously.

"No," she said, shaking her head, "we will never admit defeat … we are lions and we will always, _always_, come out on top!"

* * *

><p><em>Casterly Rock <em>

* * *

><p>Tywin was just about to lose his temper when the door of his study finally opened and his youngest son waddled in. He tried not to narrow his eyes at the sight of the murderous little beast as a smirk played about his lips that Tywin wanted to wipe off. If it weren't for the fact that Tyrion was his son he would have had him smothered in his sleep long ago. Not content with killing his own mother he had grown up disgracing the family name by constantly drinking himself into a stupor and bedding all of the whores in Casterly Rock. Still, the little monster was clever and Tywin had need of his cunning now. Gods he was desperate indeed.<p>

"You summoned me," Tyrion drawled.

"As you can see … I am preparing to march," Tywin said.

"I thought you were going to take up the position of Hand, not lay siege to the Capitol," he quipped.

"I am marching on Dragonstone," Tywin said, working hard to keep his tone even.

"I see," Tyrion said, frowning slightly.

"_You _are going to the Capitol to take up the position of Hand," he told him.

"Me?" Tyrion said, raising his brows, "Cersei will never stand for it"

"Your sister will do as she's told," Tywin snapped, handing Tyrion a scroll, "my orders"

"I see," he said slowly.

"You will leave tomorrow," Tywin said briskly, "and for the love of the Gods will you keep your sister under control"

"I will do my best," Tyrion said.

"You will do better than that," he said warningly, "don't make a fool of me"

_I thought I did that by simply being born,_ Tyrion thought to himself. He bobbed his head courteously to his father then before he turned to walk from the room. Hand of the King. Now there was an honour. At least it would be if the King wasn't a jumped up little shit who had a nasty temper and a streak that Tyrion could only describe as increasingly sadistic. Still … if it annoyed Cersei then it would all be worth it. Perhaps his father might actually develop a sense of pride towards him. He snorted then as he continued on down the hallways, his father would never be proud of him. He could single-handedly save him and every one of his precious family and still he would come second to Jaime. The golden boy, the Kingslayer, the King's father. He almost laughed to himself then. How proud would his father be of precious Jaime if he knew that the contents of Stannis' declaration were entirely true?

Probably still prouder than he was of Tyrion and that realisation had the smile falling instantly from his face.

* * *

><p><em>Winterfell <em>

* * *

><p>Dany carefully set the egg back down in its casket, not taking her eyes from the smooth stone that felt so strangely warm under her touch. She hadn't told anyone about the warmth, everyone else had said how cold the eggs felt and she didn't want everyone looking at her strangely if she told them that they didn't feel cold to her at all. She had kept the eggs in her room at first but since everyone liked to wonder at the she had moved them to the library so everyone could look at them if they pleased. She had asked that no one pick them up though, she didn't mind them being touched but if someone accidently dropped one she was afraid that it might break.<p>

"There you are," Jon's voice roused her attention then and she turned to smile at him.

"Am I needed?" she asked him and he nodded.

"Robb wondered if you could help him with the accounts, you're the best with numbers," he said.

"Where is he?" she asked then, biting her lip slightly and hoping it wouldn't be just the two of them.

"In the dining hall," he told her and she smiled again.

"I'll see you later Jon," she said before turning to walk out of the library.

"See you later," he responded as she walked away.

Once she was gone he turned his attention to the casket that contained the dragon eggs. He was glad that Dany had moved them to the library, he had been longing to see them and touch them again since the night they had arrived but he felt strange about asking her, thinking she would find his curiosity strange. There was something about them though, something about the way they felt so warm even though they were supposed to be cold stones. He reached his hand out to lay his palm on one of them then and felt the warmth just the same as he had the first time. Surely that wasn't normal? Surely they should be cold? He wondered if Dany felt them warm like he did, she had never mentioned them feeling cold like the others had. Perhaps like him she felt them warm and was unwilling to admit it. It was odd, not normal, but Jon couldn't work out why he should feel them differently. He moved his hand to touch the other two then and felt them just as warm. His brow furrowed as he tried to think of some explanation but nothing came to him and in the end he took his hand back and walked from the library.

* * *

><p>"What's got your face all scrunched up?" Dany asked Robb as he frowned down at his papers.<p>

"Numbers," he muttered, "I can't make head nor tail of them"

"Let me see," she said gently, walking round the table to sit herself down.

He remained standing and looked down at her as she began sifting through the accounts. He had promised the Maester that he would have them done by sun down but as the afternoon had worn on he had had to concede defeat and asked Jon to find Dany for him. He had been avoiding her since their almost kiss and he knew damn well that she had been avoiding him too. They had been so damn close but neither of them had managed to take that step – if one of them had then the other would have followed all too eagerly and that had scared him. He supposed it had scared her too and that was likely why she had been just as willing as him to stay away from one another.

She was here now though and she was beautiful as she frowned slightly in concentration, her quill scratching on a blank piece of parchment as she went through the accounts. He wasn't sure how he would be able to manage Winterfell without her. He swallowed then, thinking of that made him think of her at his side properly, officially. It made him think of her as his Lady and his wife, the woman he would spend forever with, the woman he would share children with. His imagination was running away with him then before he could stop himself and he could see her so clearly as his future. As his forever.

Robb blinked then as Grey Wind nudged his great head against his hip and whined softly. He turned his head at the movement and sighed as he saw his wolf eyeing Dany mournfully before looking up at him and fixing him with a look he could only describe as pity. Sometimes Robb thought that Grey Wind was more man than wolf. Sometimes he felt like he could read his mind, he seemed to respond more to his thoughts than he did to his spoken commands. He sighed then. If even a damn direwolf could sense what was between him and Dany then it was hopeless. Robb didn't see how he could ever wrench his heart away from her, how he was ever supposed to marry another and share his life entirely with them. It wouldn't be long. He was a man grown now and with his father in the Capitol no doubt a match would soon be found for him. Grey Wind whined again then as he thought that and he sighed heavily.

"I'm almost done," Dany said then, misinterpreting his sigh.

"Sorry," he said at once, "it wasn't aimed at you … I'm just so tired," he lied.

"You have much to contend with," she said sympathetically.

"I just wish my father would write … mother is beside herself," he confessed.

"Likely Lord Stark has written, it would not be the first time a letter has gone undelivered," she soothed.

"Likely you're right," he agreed although he was not entirely convinced.

"Nice try," she smiled knowingly as she set the quill down.

"I just want my family home again," he said quietly and she nodded sympathetically.

"No doubt they soon will be, a new King will likely mean a new Hand," she smiled.

"Yes," he agreed more heartily, "no doubt the Queen will install a member of her own family"

"Exactly," she nodded, "this is all done for you," she added, gesturing to the accounts.

"Thank you so much," he said gratefully.

"It's nothing," she said almost dismissively and he shook his head.

"Honestly Dany," he said wonderingly, "I don't know what I would ever do without you."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **I know, I know ... I'm mean. Robb will get Stannis' letter next time - will no doubt update again mid-week.

:)


	14. Escapes

**A/N: **Some new, newey, newness for you guys!

**Tarias:** Hope you manage to get back into your account but thanks for reviewing anyway! Thank you, and yes, I know I'm mean I am sooo aware of it haha. Hopefully this will make up for my meaness, although ... I may just leave you with a whole new set of cliffies ... ;)

**SLP:** I'm not sure Stannis knows the meaning of the word! He won't be making many friends this way as you can probably imagine.

Anyway, to the chapter guys! Fair bit of action in this one so hope you all enjoy!

:)

* * *

><p><strong>Escapes <strong>

* * *

><p><em>Winterfell<em>

* * *

><p>Robb slammed his fists hard on the table and Catelyn jumped slightly, the others sat at the high table turning to look at him curiously and Maester Luwin in front of him looking concerned. He took a breath then and tried to make sense of the words he had just read. He couldn't stand the feeling of everyone's eyes on him though and so he stood up abruptly from the table.<p>

"Mother," he said, his voice calmer than he had expected it to be and she stood up; "Dany," he added and she too stood, a look of confusion on her face.

He said nothing to either of them as he strode from the hall, hearing their footsteps following him in the silence of the room. The eyes of everyone were on them but he focused on nothing but the open door, turning sharply when he walked through it and pounding down the hallways towards his father's study. Once inside he turned and waited until his mother had closed the door before he spoke.

"I have word of father," he said and her heart instantly dropped.

"Why do I get the feeling it is not good news?" she asked him quietly.

"He has been imprisoned," Robb almost spat and she stared at him.

"Why?" she whispered, "Ned would never do anything to warrant being arrested … this is a Lannister plot I just know it!"

"He's not at the Capitol, he has been imprisoned at Dragonstone by Stannis Baratheon who has named the Baratheon children bastards of incest and himself the true King," Robb told her.

"But … if Ned is at Dragonstone then surely it was him who told Stannis … why would Stannis imprison him, surely he would need the North to raise its banners for him?" Catelyn frowned, none of this was making any sense to her.

"Stannis will let him go if we hand over Dany," Robb said, feeling sick, and his mother's eyes widened in understanding.

Dany stared at him as well, suddenly realising why Robb had called for her to come along as well. It was not hard to imagine why Stannis Baratheon would want her handed over, she was probably considered a threat by him and he would want her out of the way. She felt awful that Lord Stark who had been so good to her all these years had been imprisoned because of her. No doubt it would have been difficult for him to escape the Capitol and now he had been taken prisoner to ensure that the threat from her house was gone. She thought of her brother across the Narrow Sea then and suddenly wished that they had been able to smuggle her away with him all those years ago. If they had managed it then she would not be causing the Stark's all this pain now.

"I will go," she said then.

"What?!" Robb snapped at her.

"I will go to Dragonstone if it will mean Lord Stark is freed," she said.

"You will not," he snarled at her, unable to believe she would even suggest it.

"Robb …" she started.

"You're not going Dany," Catelyn spoke across her then before she could continue.

"But … Lady Stark," she started again.

"Ned would have said no," Catelyn said certainly, "doubtless that's why he's been imprisoned – he wouldn't give you up and neither will we"

"We'll free my father another way," Robb said.

"Will you call the banners?" his mother asked him grimly and he nodded.

"It doesn't look like I have much choice," he said heavily and it was her turn to nod at him.

* * *

><p><em>Dragonstone<em>

* * *

><p>Davos surveyed the scene in front of him, he could scarce believe what he was seeing as he watched the chanting hoards gather around the effigies of the Seven. Burning Gods. Seven hells, when had it come to this? That woman was stood there in the midst of them with her red robes flapping around her in the strong winds. He could taste the salt on his tongue as the spray of the sea was blown up around them. Some of the Queen's men were stepping forwards then with torches in their hands, all of them chanting to their Lord of Light. This was so wrong. How could Stannis stand by and allow this madness to happen? He thought this red priestess had power, had the power to make him King. Davos didn't care for magic, he didn't trust magic. Stannis didn't need some unnatural forces to make him King, he needed an army – an army he would already have if he hadn't foolishly chained Lord Stark up in the prison.<p>

Father. Smith. Warrior. Mother. Maiden. Crone. Stranger. He remembered so clearly pledging himself to his wife before those Gods. He remembered resting on his knees in front of their images in the sept whenever he had had need to pray. He remembered resting on his knees and conjuring up their images in his own home each time his wife had been bringing another one of their children into the world. These Gods were the Gods of Westeros, the Gods that the people worshipped – those that were not Northmen anyway. If this red woman was burning effigies how long would it be before she began burning Septon's of the faith? And how long after that before she burned anyone who worshipped the Seven?

As the torches were lowered to the wooden effigies he made up his mind. Stannis had been bewitched and he needed to do something to snap him out of it. To lift the spell. As the flames took hold and the columns of smoke stretched higher into the blackness of the night sky he resolved himself. He had to save Stannis. Making an attempt on her life would only be the end of his own. Perhaps this action would be too but at least he could go to the Gods knowing that he had done the right thing. He turned then, no one would notice his absence now, everyone's eyes were firmly fixed on the seven raging pyres, their chanting growing louder and louder as he made his way up the beach.

He could still hear them when he reached the docks although it was more a faint whisper on the wind. It still sent shivers up his spine though as he hurried towards where his son's ship was moored, thanking the Gods when it loomed out of the darkness. He had half expected his boy to be gone by now. His destination was White Harbour and that was just the stroke of luck that Davos had been waiting for.

"Dale!" he called out for his son.

"Aye father," he appeared after a moment, "we're off soon, what is it?"

"Hold off a while longer … there's some more cargo to come," Davos said and his boy frowned.

"She's full," Dale said.

"It'll not take much room," Davos implored him and his son sighed.

"I'll hold off till you return," he promised.

Davos nodded his thanks then before turning and heading back along the docks, his eyes searching for the concealed back entrance to the prison. He already had the keys, Stannis had entrusted him with a set many years ago. The thought of betraying that trust did not sit easily with Davos but this was the right thing to do. Lord Stark was a good man, perhaps even good enough to one day forgive Stannis for his misdemeanours and fight for him. He was the rightful King after all, Lord Stark had acknowledged that, perhaps with Melisandre gone he would consider raising his banners for Stannis again. He turned the key in the lock then, looking from side to side to make sure that no one was around. The docks were mostly deserted, almost everyone on Dragonstone was down at the beach. The only other people beside his son and his crew had already raised their own anchor and had sailed away from the shore.

He closed the gate to, holding his breath and praying that it wouldn't creak before he padded softly down the stony tunnel that led to the cells. There was not a sound to be heard and Davos imagined that the prison guards were likely in their warm barracks at the top end of the prison. Thankfully Lord Stark was placed in one of the lower cells and Davos could see the glow of his lantern as he approached him almost silently. Quiet as he was the man heard him and turned his head in surprise when he reached the cell. Davos pressed his finger to his lips and Lord Stark nodded his understanding before Davos began examining the keys for the right one. When he found it he slid it into the lock and turned it before he could change his mind. _This is the right thing_, he reminded himself.

He swung open the door then and gestured for Lord Stark to leave, the man did as he bid and stood in the passageway looking at him inquisitively. Still Davos said nothing as he closed the door of the cell and re-locked it. When it was done he began sneaking back down the way he had come, glancing behind him to make sure that Lord Stark was following him. When they reached the gate to the docks Davos opened it carefully and glanced around. Thankfully the area was still deserted and he hurriedly gestured for Lord Stark to come out, closing and locking the gate when he had and unfastening his cloak. He handed the cloak to Lord Stark and the man took it gratefully.

"I imagine I haven't been pardoned," Lord Stark said lowly then as he pulled on the cloak.

"No," Davos grimaced, "but I beg you not to hold this against the King … it's that woman, the one who claims to see things in the flames"

"You think she's hoodwinked him?" Lord Stark frowned and he nodded.

"Aye," he said, "best pull that hood down low, follow me"

"Thank you for this," Lord Stark said gratefully and Davos nodded again, his steps brisk.

"My son is sailing to White Harbour, he will get you there safely but after that you're on your own," Davos said.

"In the North at least," Lord Stark said, "is there any way for me to get word to my family"

"Dale has some ravens aboard, he'll take care of you," Davos promised him.

"Thank you," he said again, his mind spinning.

Dale looked towards his father impatiently when he saw him returned and Davos jerked his head towards Lord Stark which made his son frown. He came forwards then and Ned watched as Davos gripped the young man's arm tightly and spoke to him in urgent, hushed tones. When they broke apart Dale looked at him and bowed his head shortly, the action putting Ned somewhat at ease and causing his heart to beat more normally again.

"Keep that hood up, you will stay in my quarters, no one will know but me – on my honour I will get you safely to White Harbour," Dale promised him.

"If you give me leave to write to my son I can promise that you will be richly rewarded when we dock," Ned vowed in return and the young man nodded his agreement.

* * *

><p><em>Abandoned Village, God's Eye Lake<em>

* * *

><p>"Shove over," Gendry said, forcing himself between Arya and Bran and pulling the loaf of near stale bread he had into thirds.<p>

"Thanks," Bran said.

"Welcome," Gendry returned, "you going to the Wall as well"

"Of course not stupid," Arya said then, tearing at her own portion of bread.

"Sorry," he said, "I was just trying to be friendly like …"

"Don't mind her … she's always like that," Bran told him and he grinned as Arya scowled.

"What's your name?" Gendry asked him.

"Ben," Bran told him, "and she's Alys," he added, nodding to Arya.

"And that man Jory is your father?" Gendry checked.

"Yes," Bran nodded.

"Thought I saw him once with that Lord Stark," Gendry said then.

"No doubt you thought wrong," Arya snapped and he raised his brows.

Before he could comment though there was the sound of approaching hooves and he felt the two children on either side of him stiffen. He looked down from the rafters of the barn then and noticed that Yoren and Jory were sharing an uneasy look, their hands going to rest on the hilt of their swords. Yoren barked at one of the men to check outside and Gendry watched him with narrowed eyes, the man had stolen his bull helm and he was still trying to plot the best way to steal it back.

"Gold Cloaks!"

The two on either side of him seemed to tense up even more and exchange an uneasy glance with one another. Gendry frowned. He wasn't simple, he may not be the cleverest but he was by no stretch the dumbest and he knew damn well that these weren't simple small folk trying to get back to their farm or whatever their story was.

"We should hide," he said then.

"Yes," Arya said then and he was surprised at how quickly she had agreed.

"There's a gap up there," Bran said, looking up towards the roof.

"Let's go," Gendry said and they all got carefully to their feet and balanced along the rafters until they were directly underneath the gap.

Jory glanced up as he pulled out his sword and saw Gendry helping Bran up into the gap, the boy reaching down to help Arya scramble up after him before the two of them helped the smith's boy up. He was glad they were hiding together, he wasn't tasked with taking care of Gendry – the Stark children were his priority – but the boy shared the blood of the late King and he knew Lord Stark wouldn't want any harm to come to them. He looked towards Yoren then and saw that the black brother had his own sword unsheathed and was arming those recruits that he trusted enough to handle a weapon. They weren't exactly organised but Jory hoped that they would be able to do enough to see off the Gold Cloaks. The boy who had spotted them had said there were seven of them. Surely he, the Captain of the Guards, and Yoren, a seasoned man of the Nights Watch would be able to best them with the help of these green boys.

Jory swallowed hard then as the sound of galloping hooves could be heard right outside the barn. He readied his stance and saw Yoren do the same from the corner of his eye. When he glanced behind them he saw the three Yoren had trusted with weapons looking rather determined, one of them was even wearing a helm. He turned back to the front then as he heard the sound of swords unsheathing and in the next instant Gold Cloaks were entering. Jory went for the nearest one at once, the man seeming surprised that they had been ready and waiting for them and he allowed himself a small smile of satisfaction as the man fell dead at his feet. He had no time to compose himself before the next Gold Cloak was upon him but he swung his sword up to block him well enough and they exchanged blows for a long minute, Jory's eyes searching for any hint of weakness.

One of the boys was cut down then and his dying scream had the man he was fighting distracted for a spit second. It was all the time Jory needed to kiss his steel across the man's throat. Blood gushed from his neck as he fell to his knees and slumped the ground with a final spluttered, gurgle. Yoren he could see had killed another two and the boy with the bull helm was finishing off another. There were only two left now and Jory raised his sword to one as the boy in the helm engaged the other. This time the boy was not so lucky and he slumped to the floor with a pitiful moan. Jory knew he would not be getting back up as he clashed his sword hard against his opponent, causing him to slip slightly in the blood of his fallen comrade. He rammed his sword hard into the man's stomach then, his light armour giving way easily to the strong, northern steel. Jory wrenched his sword free then and shoved the man to the ground where he moved no more. Breathing hard he turned to see Yoren finishing off the final man and they caught one another's eyes and managed a grim smile of relief.

"Best hide them," Yoren said.

"Best had," Jory agreed and Yoren barked orders for those who had been told to hide to come out and help conceal the bodies of the Gold Cloaks.

"Something will have to be done about the horses," Yoren said then.

"Take them," Jory suggested, "sell them on in the next inhabited town"

"Aye …" Yoren said.

"Will you continue along the King's Road?" Jory asked then.

"Aye," Yoren said again, "I'm a man of the Night's Watch, my business is official"

"Then this is where we part then," Jory said, glancing up to the rafters and seeing Arya, Bran and Gendry emerging from their hiding place.

"Good luck," Yoren said.

"Thank you," Jory nodded.

"You best get going, take some of this steel with you, the young 'uns should be armed," Yoren urged.

"Aye," Jory said reluctantly.

He stepped away then and went to help Bran and Arya down off the hay stacks, Gendry already having dropped down and gone to reclaim his helm from the dead boy who had stolen it. Jory urged Bran and Arya to gather up their things then before picking up the sword of one of the fallen men, weighing it in his hands and thinking that Bran should just about manage to wield it. He pulled away a couple of sword belts then and tossed them towards the Stark children. Bran pulled his around his middle and fastened it with slightly shaking fingers. Arya seemed more confident in her movement, tying it tightly around her before crossing to the cart and pulling out her own sword, Needle.

"Let's go," Jory jerked his head towards the door then and they walked obediently to him.

"Mister!" Gendry called out then, "Mister could I come too?!"

"You are supposed to be headed to the Wall," Jory told him.

"I never wanted to join no Nights Watch, Tobho made me go but I never wanted to … I'm a smith Mister, perhaps you have use of a smith where you're headed," Gendry implored him.

Jory exchanged a look with Yoren then and the black brother shrugged.

"Perhaps we might have use of a smith," Jory said then and Gendry's face lit up, "get yourself armed with a sword and let's get out of here."

* * *

><p><em>Beyond the Wall<em>

* * *

><p>Benjen could hear the crunching of footsteps in the snow coming from the thicket of woodland in the shadow of which he and his men had made camp. Whoever was there they were not the stealthiest and Benjen turned from the fire and stood up, turning to face the trees.<p>

"Whoever is there we have a hot fire here if you have some meat to put on it!" he called.

"Is that wise?" one of his men asked.

"If they meant us harm they would have shot a dozen arrows by now," Benjen said.

"Is it wildlings?" another man asked.

"Most like," Benjen nodded and they fell silent as the crunching steps grew closer.

Sure enough, a moment later a group of five wildings emerged from the shadows of the trees and slowly made their way towards the camp. All of them were women, Benjen noted, women of varying ages that he imagined were all somehow related. He vaguely wondered where their men were but stopped. There were many possibilities but it was more than likely that they had perished.

"We got goat," one of the women said then and Benjen nodded.

"We have a fire," he returned and it was her turn to nod.

"Don't often get friendly crows," she said.

"Don't often get friendly wildlings," he told her and she managed a half smile.

He stepped out of the way of the fire then and two of the women knelt and began preparing their meat, the other three hung back looking wary and Benjen sighed before moving to the supply wagon and pouring himself a flagon of ale. Several of his own men were regarding the women warily as well but one or two he noted were raking their eyes over a few of the younger ones with a rather hungry expression on their faces. He frowned then and hoped they would keep their breeches laced, knowing that if they even attempted to take one of the girls by force that they would be castrated in mere seconds. Not that they wouldn't deserve it of course but he needed all the men he could get and he needed them at full strength.

Once the meat was skewered above the fire Benjen moved back towards it and sat with the women who still remained by it. One of them gave him a suspicious look before standing and moving to stand back with the others. The other remained though and it was the one that he had already spoken with.

"What do they call you crow?" she asked him.

"Benjen," he told her, "and you?"

"Menna," she nodded and he returned the gesture, "You're brave lighting this fire"

"How so?" he frowned.

"Fire attracts all sorts," she said darkly.

"I think there are enough of us to ward off an ambush," he said dismissively.

"I ain't talking free folk," she told him and his frown deepened.

"Then what are you taking of?" he asked.

"Walkers," she said simply.

"You believe the tales?" he questioned with a raised brow.

"Be fool not to when I've seen what they can do," she said and he shuddered involuntarily.

"Have you seen one?" he asked.

"If I had, I don't think I'd be sat exchanging pleasantries with you," she snorted.

"There are no men in your party," he stated then, "perhaps they have seen the walkers"

"Or perhaps they've gone further north to join Mance Rayder," she said.

"Mance Rayder?" he said darkly and she really did manage a smile this time.

"You know him?" she asked him and he grimaced.

"You could say that," he growled.

* * *

><p><em>King's Landing<em>

* * *

><p>Sansa swallowed hard as the doors to the throne room were opened wide to allow her to pass through. The guards she walked between were stony-faced, not giving her any clue whatsoever what kind of reception she was going to be greeted with. She had not seen anyone but her maids for so long and none of them spoke to her, save to ask her if she needed anything. <em>Yes,<em> she always wanted to say, _I need to go home. _She never said that though. She never said a word. Her footsteps echoed around the cavernous space as she approached the Iron Throne where Joffrey was sat with an elaborately jewelled crown on his golden head. She supposed that ordinarily the sight would have made her heart flutter but she did not miss the hard, cold look in his eyes. Any hope that he could be the one to save her from this nightmare died then and she took a breath and curtseyed low before him. There was no one else here save for him, the Queen and a few members of what she could only assume was the King's council and she felt her apprehension grow.

"You asked to see me your Grace," she said as calmly and sweetly as she could manage.

"We did little dove," it was the Queen who answered, "we thought perhaps after some time you might have remembered something about where your father and siblings are"

"I don't know anything your Grace," Sansa replied and the Queen smiled, the action not reaching her eyes that were as cold as her sons.

"Come now … do you really expect us to believe that your father would just abandon you here … that you know nothing?" she said, raising one perfect brow.

"I truly don't your Grace," Sansa said, her eyes wide and fearful.

"I think …" the Queen began.

"That the Lady might remember something with some persuasion," Joffrey finished for her.

Sansa swallowed hard, her mouth and throat completely dry as she caught his eye for a second, his eyes that were now suddenly alive and dancing with what she could only describe as malice. She didn't miss the look of confusion that crossed the Queen's face when Joffrey clicked his fingers and it made her dread what Joffrey had planned. The clank of armoured footsteps could be heard then and Sansa wanted to break down and cry when she saw the owners come into view. Each huge White Cloak had someone clamped roughly in their arms. Her Septa Mordane and Jeyne Poole. She looked up at Joffrey again then, her eyes wide and unbelieving as a cruel smirk played about his lips.

"Now," Joffrey said, "where is your traitor father?"

"I don't know," she said, shaking her head, "your Grace I don't …" she continued but cut off with a scream of horror as the man holding Septa Mordane ran a blade across her throat. Tears were stinging at her eyes as the blood flowed from her lifeless body, the White Cloak dropping her to the ground as though she were nothing. Tears stung at her eyes and she could hear Jeyne begin to cry as her head spun, her stomach churning horribly as she tried to tear her eyes away from her body.

"Where is your father?!" Joffrey demanded.

"Please!" she begged, "Please your Grace I don't know! I don't know! Please don't!" she pleaded, her eyes on Jeyne as her captor moved his blade to her throat.

"Tell me!" Joffrey roared, standing up from the throne.

"Joff …" she heard the Queen scold in an undertone as Jeyne began to sob relentlessly, Sansa could see her shaking, her eyes wide and begging.

"I cannot tell you what I do not know!" Sansa cried desperately, "Please your Grace! Please don't!"

"Shut her up," he snarled towards the White Cloak.

"No!" Sansa screamed out.

"What is this?!" a commanding voice rang out from behind her then and she could have sank to her knees in relief as the man who held Jeyne stilled his movement.

"What are you doing here?" the Queen asked.

"Stopping your son … although not quite soon enough," the man said, his footsteps coming closer and closer behind Sansa.

"You can't command me," Joffrey sneered, "I am the King"

"And I am your Hand," the man said, walking to stand just in front of Sansa. She knew him now, it was Lord Tyrion.

"What?" the Queen snarled, "Our father is to be Hand"

"Yes," Tyrion agreed, "but he has gone to deal with Stannis and has asked me to take his place … temporarily," he finished smoothly, handing the Queen a scroll of parchment.

Sansa dared to hope then as the Queen flushed furiously on reading the words on the parchment, rolling it back up in a fury and nodding once to Joffrey who flushed an even uglier colour in his own response. Lord Tyrion turned back to look at her then and she tried to calm her racing heart as she looked back at him.

"Go back to your rooms Sansa," he said gently and she glanced warily towards Jeyne. He seemed to notice her line of sight and he turned his attention instead to her and her captor; "let that girl go – now!"

"You have no right!" Joffrey snapped at him.

"I have every right to stop you behaving like a spoiled child!" he snapped right back, "You are supposed to be the King and yet you insist on acting like a toddler having a tantrum … you do not threaten innocent people and you do not murder innocent people. Your name is being spoken of in ill terms as it is – do you really think this is going to endear you to your subjects?"

"Let it go Joff," the Queen murmured then and he turned almost purple with rage before stamping down from the Iron Throne and retreating from the throne room. Sansa breathed a sigh of relief then as the man holding Jeyne finally lowered his blade and loosened his hold on her. For now at least she knew it was over.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **So ... I said there was a lot going on ... thoughts?

:)


	15. Desperate Measures

**A/N:** New chapter guys! Hope you enjoy it. As ever, your comments would be very much appreciated.

**Guest:** Yes, Sansa did make a rather idiotic decision but she's very naive and assumed her handsome Prince was the most important thing and the best thing for her. She's certainly paying for it now!

Right, on with the chapter!

:)

* * *

><p><strong>Desperate Measures<strong>

* * *

><p><em>Winterfell<em>

* * *

><p>"What does he say of the girls and Bran?" Catelyn asks fearfully.<p>

"He says he tasked Jory with getting them away from the Capitol," Robb told her.

"What now lad?" Lord Karstark asked then – he had been the first of the Lords to arrive and had it not been for the Mormont's being delayed they would have already marched before they had received Ned's word that he was sailing to White Harbour.

"I'll send word to Lord Manderly," Robb said, "and I will send some of my own men down to the coast to meet him when the ship docks"

"If we can't back the Lannister's and we can't back Stannis what is the North to do?" the Greatjon asked gruffly then.

"Wait for its warden to return," Robb said firmly.

"Aye," Lord Karstark agreed as the Greatjon muttered darkly under his breath.

"Unless you have a suggestion Lord Umber?" Robb demanded, the old man had been dismissive of him at best and damn right rude at worst so far.

"We need to pick a side in this war before someone picks it for us," he stated.

"And do you have a preferred side?" Robb persisted, not moving his eyes from the Greatjon.

"The winning one," he said and Robb allowed a wry smile.

"We wait for my father, I will send men out," he said with finality.

"The Flint's will be waiting," Lord Karstark reminded him.

"Aye," Robb nodded, "I will send word to them that we'll not be marching but to keep ready – we don't yet know what my father will have planned"

"Aye," he nodded his own agreement.

"Is that everything?" Robb asked then and the pair of them bowed their heads to him.

Lord Karstark exchanged a fond enough goodbye with him but the Greatjon said nothing before he too stamped from the council chambers and Robb let out a long sigh when the door closed behind him. He wasn't stupid, he knew why the Greatjon was so dismissive of him – he thought him green and while Robb could admit that he had no experience of battle it did not mean that he was a fool. Waiting for his father, getting his father safely back to Winterfell, was the right thing to do – the only thing to do. Marching blindly south would do them no good until they knew exactly who they would be fighting for and against when they got there. He sat heavily then and picked up a quill, dipping it in the inkwell before scratching a letter to Wyman Manderly.

"What about the girls and Bran?" his mother asked then making him jump, he had forgotten that she had been in the room.

"Father says they're with Jory," he said, turning his attention back to his letter.

"Why have we had no word of them?" she persisted and he sighed, setting the quill aside and standing up again.

"How do you expect them to find writing materials in the wilds?" he asked her.

"The wilds?!" she repeated with wide eyes.

"You don't really think they'd risk the King's Road? There will be Lannister men scouring the land for them," he said.

"What if they've caught up with them?! What if they're …" she choked on the word.

"Don't you dare," Robb told her firmly, stepping forward and grabbing her upper arms, "listen to me, they are safe with Jory! He will get them home – the Lannister's have troubles enough with Stannis. If Tywin truly is marching on Dragonstone then I doubt finding a group of children will be his main priority"

"They're not children to them though are they?" his mother whispered, "They are hostages"

"Only if they find them," Robb said firmly, "and we would know if they had."

* * *

><p>Theon was breathless as Adele leant back in to kiss him but he managed to kiss her back, his lips as always moving so perfectly with hers. They had reached some kind of compromise it seemed – she would not give up her honour to him but she was more than happy to pleasure him with her skilled hands and her delicious mouth. In turn she was also more than willing to let him push her to the limits with his tongue and his fingers. He still longed to be inside her, dreaming of how perfect she would feel, but for now he would take this situation gladly. She was so good at pleasing him that he could just about live with not having her entirely. Adele pulled back then and smiled that sweet smile at him that he utterly adored, he watched her so often that he knew she only bestowed that smile on him. Other people were sent other smiles, no one else got to see this one that only he saw and he felt immense satisfaction with that knowledge.<p>

"We should go back," she said and he smiled at the sound of regret in her voice.

"They'll not be missing us yet, there is far too much occupying them," he returned.

"Exactly," she said, "there is so much uproar, the last thing you should be doing is shirking your responsibilities."

Theon sighed then. She was right – unfortunately. With the banners arriving and a makeshift camp set up outside the walls of Winterfell for all the fighting men the guards had become rather stretched. With Jory gone there was no one to assume any kind of order and so Theon had volunteered his own services on a whim. Consequently he had somehow become the acting Captain seeing as Adele's father, who had previously been doing the duty, had been tasked by Robb to see to the security of the campsite. Theon therefore was in charge of protecting those within the walls and had so far enjoyed the work – although not so much when it meant he missed out on seeing Adele. She would find him sometimes when he was on his night time patrol and give him something that would leave his mind spinning and put him in a good mood for the rest of his shift.

If he was honest with himself he wasn't exactly sure how he would get through the days without her anymore. If he was honest with himself he would probably admit that he was falling for her and falling hard – harder than he had ever imagined falling for anyone. That was _if _he was honest with himself though and Theon was in no way ready to confront any of those feelings.

* * *

><p><em>King's Landing<em>

* * *

><p>Sansa raised her hand to her lip, feeling the moist blood on her fingertip and tasting it in her mouth as the pain throbbed dully. It was Ser Meryn again, it was usually him; he seemed to actually enjoy taking orders from Joffrey to strike her. He seemed to take pleasure in beating a girl and Sansa hoped that he did not have a wife. Her father had always told her that true men did not harm women, that true men defended a woman's honour and shielded her from harm. She looked up then, refusing to let the tears that stung her eyes fall and gazed unflinchingly at Ser Meryn and the <em>King. <em>They were no men, she decided. Joffrey was not even man enough to strike her himself. The thought made her want to laugh for some inexplicable reason. Perhaps she had gone mad. Perhaps this was her punishment for disobeying her father.

* * *

><p>Cersei watched Joffrey as they dined together, his fine golden crown set so perfectly on his golden head. Her beautiful lion cub. His temper had been flaring lately but she was not worried – King's needed to have a firm hand and Joffrey was certainly proving that he had that.<p>

"My uncle will be defeated won't her?" he asked her then.

"Of course," she replied smoothly, "your grandfather will see to that"

"I will have my uncle's head for the poisonous lies he has been spreading about you mother … perhaps I shall have his liars tongue out first …" he vowed.

"A just punishment my sweet," she smiled at him.

"Because they are lies aren't they mother?" he continued and she stared evenly at him.

"What else?" she said.

"I would see to it that every threat to my throne is eliminated," he stated then.

"There is no threat to your throne," she lied, "who could ever usurp you?"

"My uncles," he snapped, "those Targaryen children father should have dealt with years ago!"

"Yes he should have," she agreed with her son on that one.

"It seems I will have to make up for his failure," Joffrey said.

"What were you thinking my sweet?" she asked him.

"Someone could be sent to the mad King's son …" he mused, "I would pay them handsomely, the same could be done to the bitch in the North"

"Perhaps flames would be a fitting end to the girl," Cersei suggested lightly and her son's eyes lit up in delight at her words.

* * *

><p><em>Highgarden <em>

* * *

><p>Margaery exchanged a look with her grandmother as they sat at the high table before she let her eyes take in her new husband at her side. The time was fast approaching. The time for the bedding. As nervous as she was she could not help but worry more that her husband would not be able. She wasn't stupid – everyone knew the truth of Renly and Loras, it was an open secret and one that would hopefully help her tonight. Their marriage had to be consummated. She had to get pregnant. With a child inside her Renly would have even more support gathered around him. People would overlook the fact that Stannis was older because Stannis was disliked and only had a daughter. She would give Renly a son and maybe then she would be able to capture his attention away from her brother. First though they would have to get through the bedding. She looked to her grandmother then and she nodded her head slightly to her. At the action Margaery moved her hand to settle on her husbands, his eyes turning to find hers at her touch.<p>

"Shall we retire?" she asked him quietly and she felt him stiffen.

"Of course my love," he replied and she smiled slightly.

They rose up in unison then and walked from the hall. The traditional bedding ceremony had been banned – her father had made up some lie about not wanting his daughter humiliated and remembering that made her smile wryly. Enduring the bedding ceremony would doubtless have been far less humiliating than what her wedding night was like to be. Once inside their chambers Renly sent her an uneasy look and she tried to smile reassuringly at him.

"I don't know if this will work," he told her honestly.

"It has to," she said and he nodded his agreement.

"Would you like some wine while we wait?" he asked her.

"Please," she said, loosening the ties of her gown.

Renly handed her a glass and raised his own so they could clink them together before they both took a long, grateful sip. He set the glass down then and loosened his doublet, shrugging out of it before unlacing his shirt. Margaery watched him contemplatively as she sipped slowly on her own wine. He sat on the edge of the bed then and tugged off his boots and she set down her own wine.

"Should I?" she asked him, gesturing to her own clothing.

"It might be easier if we get used to one another," he replied and she nodded.

She could feel his eyes on her as she unthread the ties of her dress, the bodice loosening to the point that the heavy material just fell to the floor. His eyes were still on her as she moved to unlace her shift, kicking her dainty silk slippers off her feet and taking a few steps closer. Renly swallowed hard as she came to a halt just in front of him. He knew most men would be ripping that shift away from her, roaming their hands over every inch of her naked flesh before triumphantly taking her maidenhead. He was no fool, he knew Margaery was a woman of great beauty and that men would doubtless kill to take his place. Renly just wanted her brother though and he was ashamed of himself for it. Loras had promised to come, to help them with the necessity but there was no way of knowing how long he would be kept away at the feast. Long enough for Margaery to be naked before him it seemed as her shift dropped to the floor. He let his eyes wander her body out of sheer curiosity more than anything and wondered if he could be brave enough to do this himself.

"Come and join me," he said then and she looked vaguely surprised.

"As you wish," she said as he slid back onto the bed, her own body coming to lay next to him.

"This is all new for me," he confessed.

"For me too," she smiled slightly, turning her head to look at him and seeing him gazing back.

"It would be easier for you if he didn't come," he stated then and she nodded slowly.

"But … if it's what you need …" she whispered.

"Perhaps we can try without him …" he tailed off and she nodded again.

At her action he moved his body above hers, her legs parting to he could press his body between them, his hands coming to his laces where he felt no stirring whatsoever. Margaery let her hands wander down his arms to find his own hands, the one at his laces stilling slightly as she felt his lack of desire. She took a deep breath then and remembered what her grandmother had told her about pleasing a man. It was an instinctual thing, she had said, not something that they could control – sometimes they just needed a little encouragement to begin with.

"Close your eyes," she whispered and Renly did as he was told. She let her fingers trace along his length then but still there was no stirring. "Forget it's me," she said then as she let her hands wrap around his length. Her hand was soft around him and Renly could feel his body beginning to respond, his length becoming increasingly hard as she continued on. He let her carry on up to the point that he thought he would explode before he moved his own hand to still her movements. His body was screaming for release now and he opened his eyes. Looking at her wasn't helping, he could see Loras in her eyes and so he backed away from her slightly, his hands coming to her hips. "Turn over," he coaxed her, "I can't if you're …" he tailed off and she understood, her body responding to his hands as she rolled herself onto her stomach.

He let his hands come to her hips again then, raising them slightly as he again settled between her legs. Margaery clenched her hands tightly in the pillows then as she felt his hardness pressed up against her. She knew this would hurt but it would just be this first time. He had to do this, he had to spend himself inside her so she would have a chance of getting with child. Perhaps if he managed it this time it would come more easily next time, perhaps he would slowly come around to the fact that she was his wife and his future. Perhaps he would learn to enjoy being in her bed, being with her. Pain interrupted those wishful thoughts then and she cried out, burying her head in the pillow to stifle the sound and stifle her tears.

Renly faltered then but she knew she couldn't let him. He had to finish and so ignoring her pain she rocked her hips back and forth onto his length, feeling the pain coursing through her but pushing it to the back of her mind. He gripped her hips harder then and quickened his pace. Each hard thrust hurt more than the last but Margaery just kept her face buried in the pillow and willed herself to stay strong and not cry out again. Renly wasn't cruel. He wasn't doing this because he wanted to hurt her, he was doing it because it was the only way he could force himself to be with her sexually. She would endure it. She had to endure it until he put a child inside her. After that he could go back to her brother if he must but until then it was her bed he had to share and she would just have to keep her mouth shut and do whatever was necessary to make sure he always spent himself.

He knew he was probably hurting her as he continued but if he slowed for a moment he might suddenly realise exactly what he was doing. She felt good around him, that he couldn't deny, but she was still a woman and this still seemed ever so wrong to him. He felt guilty then, doubtless she was gaining little pleasure from this either. At least he would peak, would gain his satisfaction. She would be left in pain and stripped of her innocence. It was what they had agreed to though, what both of them had agreed with one another and before the Septon and the Gods. They had to be as man and wife until there was a child in her. He trust again then. Once. Twice more and then he was done, a groan of relief leaving him as he spilled deep inside her, his hands clenching around her hips.

As his breathing returned to normal he pulled himself out of her, her body slumping against the pillows. He saw the blood on himself then and the guilt rose higher, his hands coming again to her hips, this time rolling her onto her back. She didn't have the strength to fight him and so she flopped back over to see him gazing at her in concern. His eyes found the tears that had tracked her face before they wandered to the blood between her thighs. She felt suddenly embarrassed under his gaze then and she shifted to the edge of the bed.

"I'm sorry," he managed to get out then but she shook her head.

"We did what we had to … there is only blood and pain the first time, it will be worth it all for a Prince," she told him.

"Margaery …" he started but she was up and off the bed, her steps staggered as she made her way towards the washroom.

"I'll just clean myself up," she said, before she slipped inside and closed the door firmly behind her.

Renly was left alone and confused on the bed then, his eyes again going to the blood on himself and the blood on the sheet. He got himself up then, cleaning himself off before he grabbed the sheet and balled it up, throwing it with all his frustration at the door of the chambers. He ought to be glad he had bed his wife. He ought to be glad he had managed it without forcing her to endure the presence of her own brother in their bedchamber. He ought to be glad. He didn't feel glad though.

* * *

><p><em>Pentos<em>

* * *

><p>Viserys was grinning wildly, an almost hungry look in his eyes as Illyrio told him of the events that had been unfolding across the Narrow Sea. Westeros seemed to be on the brink of war and Illyrio himself was surprised at how quickly things seemed to be unravelling for the Lannister's. New players were emerging every day and it would only be a matter of time before he sent his own challenger. Not quite yet though, the time wasn't quite right as Varys had told him. Best wait a while longer for some of the others to eliminate one another, then swoop in and take the final steps. He wondered who would fair best in the battle that was looming up between Stannis Baratheon and Tywin Lannister. The winner would no doubt have to contend with Renly Baratheon who had married into house Tyrell. It was a bold move but a good one – everyone knew Stannis was no popular figure, likely most would see Renly as a good alternative if they turned away from the Lannister's.<p>

All that was rather intriguing but Illyrio was more interested in the whereabouts of Ned Stark; Varys had informed him that he had taken a boat to Dragonstone and had not been heard of since. What was most interesting was that the boat's captain had assured Varys that Stark had arrived safely and to heighten the intrigue the North had not yet made a move to march south. Word had trickled down that Ned Stark's eldest son had called the banners but had not made any move from Winterfell. The fact that they were not marching immediately to aid Stannis, as Varys had been certain they would, was definitely something to ponder. If the North had not sworn allegiance to any of the claimants then perhaps it was time another was introduced. He thought of Daenerys then, still a ward of Winterfell and by all accounts well loved by the Stark's. Could they perhaps be thinking of her? Surely not. But then … the eldest son … perhaps a Stark as King would be very appealing to the North. Before Illyrio could ponder anymore ifs and buts Viserys finally found his voice.

"This is all very well, let them all murder one another and leave the way clear for me to claim _my _throne. But there is one thing troubling me … where is my sweet sister in all of this and why has she not sent me word? The ungrateful whelp has not even sent word to thank me for my generous gift," he whinged and Illyrio tried not to roll his eyes.

"You did not tell her the gift was from you," he reasoned.

"If she is too stupid to work out who sent her it then she is of no use to me at all!" Viserys snapped.

"She is of invaluable use, her influence with the Stark family will …" he began.

"Oh enough about these Stark's! I notice that they have not marched with their banners – are they craven?! Will they stay frozen up in their cold North and hide from the war!?" Viserys burst out.

"If you believe that then you truly have no knowledge of the Stark's or their banners," Illyrio said coolly and Viserys stared at him.

"What did you say to me?" he whispered in a dangerously low tone.

"I would merely suggest that your Grace remember that you cannot win this Iron Throne by yourself, you need an army, and as the North has not yet declared its intention it would be rash indeed to discount them as potential allies," Illyrio said calmly.

"Allies," Viserys snorted, "Northmen are savages, my father knew that … he knew how to deal with them"

"Your father burned Rickard Stark in his armour and had his eldest son strangle himself trying to reach his own sword … your father's actions brought about a rebellion. Ned Stark raised the North for Robert Baratheon and it was him who has sat the Iron Throne for eighteen years … I would not consider that _dealing_ with them," Illyrio stated and Viserys flushed.

"You dare speak to me like that?! I am your King!" he raged.

"One day you may be _a _King, one day you may take _your _Iron Throne, but Essos is not ruled from the Iron Throne so you are not, and will never be _my _King," Illyrio told him.

Viserys almost flushed purple then and for a moment Illyrio thought that he may actually explode with rage. As it was the tempestuous young man contented himself with striding from the room and slamming the door so hard behind him that the portraits on the wall shook. Illyrio sighed heavily then. It was not the first time that he had thought that taking Viserys in had been a mistake. When he was younger he had thought he would be able to mould the boy, shape him into something resembling a man – a sane man preferably, but as the years went on his mad streak only grew and now Illyrio was at a loss of what to do with him. He couldn't support him as any kind of King that was for sure, truly he had never had any intention to do such a thing but now he wasn't even sure if he could pretend to back the man. No. Something had to be done about him and the sooner it was and he was out the way, the sooner Illyrio could move forward with his true plans.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **A few changes in there! Hope you all enjoyed, I'll hopefully have another up at the end of the week.

:)


	16. Decisions

**A/N:** New chapter guys, hope you enjoy it - your thoughts as always would be much appreciated!

**Fear:** Thank you so much, I'm glad you enjoyed it!

**Guest:** Never fear, it is not my intention to go there with that pairing!

:)

* * *

><p><strong>Decisions <strong>

* * *

><p><em>Dragonstone<em>

* * *

><p>"The bloody fool! What is he thinking?!" Stannis fumed.<p>

"What is it my King?" Melisandre asked him silkily.

"Renly … the damn fool," he spat out.

"What is it?" Selyse asked, her brow furrowing at her usual calm and collected husband.

"He has declared himself King … over me … ME!" he slammed his fists against the table.

"What will you do?" his wife asked him.

"If I may …" Melisandre began.

"No you may not," he snapped at her, "if you had not convinced me I needed that Targaryen girl then I would have the North with me by now and Renly would not be so stupid! As it is he has married Margaery Tyrell and has the might of Highgarden on his side!"

"Then what will you do?!" Selyse asked desperately.

"If he wants to ride around the south hosting tourneys and showing off his wife then that means Storm's End is there for the taking," he said.

"But … isn't Tywin Lannister marching this way?" his wife frowned.

"Can Tywin Lannister walk on water?!" he shot back.

"He's no fool!" she returned heatedly.

"Your Grace … you cannot mean to leave your seat exposed without you?" Melisandre said softly.

"Of course I don't! Stick to your flames woman you know nothing of war! Dragonstone will be left protected by enough of the fleet," Stannis said dismissively.

"But who will lead them?" Melisandre frowned at him, already knowing what he would say.

"Davos," he said.

"But you imprisoned him … it was him who turned Lord Stark loose," it was Selyse who voiced it.

"And I can pardon him just as easily, Davos will protect Dragonstone with his life if need be," he snarled.

"When will you leave?" Selyse asked then.

"On the morrow," he said curtly.

"And Shireen and I?" she persisted.

"Will stay here," he said firmly and she nodded obediently.

"Will you have need of me your Grace?" Melisandre asked him, her eyes meeting his and he saw her hidden meaning.

"I may well have need for you if Renly refuses to see sense," he said grimly.

* * *

><p><em>White Harbour<em>

* * *

><p>"Land on the horizon!"<p>

"Land!"

The shouts made Ned almost cry in relief as he heard them echoing down to the captains quarters where he had been confined for the duration of the journey. He knew why of course, it would do no good for anyone but Dale to know that they had and escaped convict on board. Still, the rocking motion of the boat and the drunken shouts of the men had meant he got little sleep. When he did sleep he dreamt and when he dreamt he woke because his dreams were never good. He hoped Robb had received his letter, if he had then there should be men waiting for him then the ship docked which from the pounding sound of movement on deck, should not be long now. He was desperate to have his feet back on dry land and even more desperate to get home to Winterfell. No doubt Lord Manderly would host him for as long as was necessary but Ned just wanted to get on a horse and ride. He wanted Cat in his arms, he wanted to see his children safe and secure. They should have arrived with Jory by now and he prayed to the Gods that their journey had gone smoothly. A knock interrupted him then and a moment later Dale let himself in.

"We'll be docking shortly my Lord," he told him.

"Thank you," Ned said gratefully.

"I'll come and fetch you once my men are unloading, no doubt your banners will be waiting," he said.

"No doubt … so long as Robb got my message," Ned said.

"I'll not be long my Lord," Dale bowed shortly then before taking his leave.

Ned could hear the creaking of sails and the clanking of chains after another few minutes and the raised shouts of the men. He could hear the gulls circling overhead and he knew that they must be about to dock. He was itching to get off this boat, itching to see the Stark banners waiting and itching to get his feet back on northern soil. The rocking motion lessened the more time passed and eventually Ned was almost certain that they had docked, now all he had to do was wait for Dale to come back and get him onto solid ground again. It wasn't long before he returned but to Ned it felt like a lifetime as he sat there with his leg nervously jumping up and down. He jumped to his feet when Dale opened the door, pulling up the hood of the cloak Davos had given him automatically.

"Come now, there are wolf banners waiting for you," Dale smiled at him.

"Thank the Gods," Ned muttered, "and thank you and your father"

"He did what he thought was right and I trust his judgement," Dale returned and Ned nodded.

"I will see to it you get your reward," he said as they made their way from the captains quarters.

It felt so good to breathe fresh air again and Ned gulped it down greedily, his eyes squinting slightly in the bright afternoon sunshine. Dale's men were hard at work around him and none of them paid him any mind as Dale led him from the boat; he could indeed see the direwolf banners waving on the docks and his heart was fit to burst. Solid ground under his feet now as he stepped off the gangway and began making his way towards the group of men Robb had sent for him. He recognised some of them now, others he didn't but he knew they would have been sent by his banners. Knowing Robb had called the banners left him with a lot of thinking to do. Before the events at Dragonstone his plan had been simple – call the banners and fight for Stannis. Now Stannis had revealed a side that Ned could not follow, even if he was the rightful heir to the throne. His options now were limited but one thing he did know was that he would protect his own borders, the North had always been his priority and that was not going to change now.

"Lord Stark," Thom bowed to him.

"It's good to see a friendly face again," Ned said, gratefully gripping his hand for a moment.

"Do we ride straight for Winterfell?" he asked.

"Aye," Ned said, "the sooner I get back the better"

"Right you are my Lord," Thom bowed shortly, reaching back to pull on the reins of a horse and hand them to Ned.

"Do you have what I requested from my son, this man's reward?" Ned asked then.

"Aye my Lord," Gerron stepped forward then and handed him a full pouch of coin.

"Thank you," Ned nodded before turning to Dale, "your reward"

"Thank you my Lord," Dale bowed shortly, taking the pouch in his hands.

"Safe travels my friend," Ned smiled.

"The same to you," he returned, bowing once more and offering a smile before he made his way back to his men and his boat.

"Now then," Ned said, pulling himself up on the horse, "to Winterfell."

* * *

><p><em>Ferry Crossing, Red Fork River<em>

* * *

><p>Jory seemed to hold his breath as they watched the group of around ten men circling the inn, shouting things at the keep that he could barely make out over the wind. He knew they were Lannister men, he could only hope that they would soon ride off so they could emerge from their spot in the undergrowth and get themselves on the ferry across the river. If they made it across here they could continue on up along the coat until they came upon Flint's Finger. The Flint's were bannermen to the North and they would be safe there and able to get word to Winterfell that they were all safe and well. Jory kept his eyes on the Lannister party as he thought that; they still had a long, long way to go before they reached their goal and he would bet anything that the journey would not be an easy one. He wondered if Lord Stark had made it back yet and if he was worried. No doubt he would be. Jory hoped that they knew Sansa was still at the Capitol and that they would have found some way to have her sent home by now. If he was being honest with himself though he imagined that Sansa would still be stuck there. That she was a most valuable hostage to the Lannister's. Gods he hoped Lord Stark would forgive him, that he and Lady Stark could understand that he had precious little choice. If he had not gone when he did then three of their children could still be stuck there.<p>

"Do you think it will be safe to cross here after those Lannister's have gone?" Bran asked in a whisper.

"Perhaps we should try somewhere else?" Gendry suggested.

"We have to cross that river," Jory told them quietly, "we need to go further north; if we go any further west we may as well give ourselves up"

"Why don't we ferry ourselves across?" Arya frowned at him.

"We'll pay the boatman," Jory told her.

"What if he gives us up?" Bran asked fearfully.

"The Lannister's would expect you to have a bigger guard, I'm just a poor farmer returning home with my three children," Jory said.

"You two just keep your mouths shut," Gendry said, "you sound all noble like"

"Do not," Arya said defiantly.

"Hush now," Jory said with finality as the Lannister men finally galloped away in the opposite direction; "we'll wait here a while longer then approach them at dusk"

"Will we camp when we get to the other side?" Bran asked.

"When we find a sheltered spot out of the way," he answered and they lapsed into silence again.

Jory made them wait over an hour before he let them emerge from the undergrowth and amble slowly towards the inn. The boatman was sat on the porch with a hot meal in front of him and Arya's stomach growled angrily as the smell of it wafted towards them. She heard Gendry snort slightly and she narrowed her eyes at him as they followed Jory towards him.

"Can you get us across tonight?" Jory asked.

"Getting dark," the man said as he took a deep draught from his flagon.

"We'll pay an extra stag, my sister is expecting us in the village there," Jory persuaded.

"An extra stag," the man squinted at him and Jory kept his expression as even as he could manage, "alright then … for an extra stag"

Jory tried not to look too relieved as the man heaved himself up and began ambling towards the small ferry that would get them across the river. When they reached the banks he ushered the children on first and then Jory stepped on before he himself got on board and began uncoupling them from the mooring post. He tied the ropes around the one which was suspended across the river then before he began hauling them across. The water flowed gently here and they made slow but steady progress, the bank soon lost from their sight as the sun sank down behind the horizon.

"Had some gold cloaks about earlier," the man commented.

"Oh?" Jory said, trying not to sound too interested as his heart pounded in his chest.

"Looking for some lost children," he said and Gendry saw his eyes sweep them and tried to catch Jory's eye as he sat with his back to the boatman.

"Well I hope they find them soon," Jory said.

"Reckon there'd be quite a reward for finding them," he said.

"No doubt," Jory muttered.

"Enough that a man could give up ferrying passengers for a living," he continued.

"Jory!" Gendry called out then, just in time for him to turn and go for his sword as the boatman pulled his own on him.

The call wasn't quite quick enough though, Jory had barely unsheathed his sword when the boatman slashed his against his arm. Arya was up and screaming then as the boat rocked unstably without the steady hands on the ropes. Gendry shoved her back as she went for her own sword and unsheathed his just as Jory just about managed to parry another blow. He went for the boatman then as he raised his sword again, sticking his own blade into the man's ribs, shoving him hard as he cried out so he toppled into the dark waters with a sickening splash.

"Jory are you alright?" Arya was by his side then as Gendry stood frozen in horror above him with his sword dripping red.

"I'm fine … you alright lad?" he asked Gendry who was utterly pale in the moonlight.

"I think so," Gendry answered.

"You never killed a man before?" Jory said gently then, wincing as Arya pulled at his tunic.

"No," Gendry whispered.

"We need to keep going across the river," Jory said.

"What then?" Bran asked as he reached up to take hold of the ropes.

"Then we'll find somewhere to camp," he said.

"And fix up your arm," Arya added.

"It'll likely just need a quick bandage," he said reassuringly.

"We'll see," she said darkly as Gendry seemed to snap out of his daze and move to help Bran haul them the rest of the way across.

Thankfully there was no one waiting on the other side for them. Gendry had been paranoid the rest of the way across that someone would have heard the boatman's dying scream and come to investigate what had happened. The village up ahead seemed silent and peaceful though with a small thicket of trees to the west that they would be able to find shelter in and get a fire going. Jory was holding his arm gingerly as he stepped off the boat, Arya and Bran following on and Gendry bringing up the rear.

"Should I tether it?" he asked, gesturing to the small ferry.

"Let it loose," Jory said, "best folk think he drowned"

"As you say," Gendry said, tossing the ropes into the river and watching as the current slowly began to take the boat downstream.

When Gendry turned back he saw that the other three were already heading towards the treeline and he picked up his pace to catch up to them just as they stepped into the gloom of the woodland. They didn't need to walk long before they found a sheltered clearing that they could see from scorch marks on the ground that others had used previously. Arya set about rummaging for their canvas sheets then, insisting that Jory sit and do nothing while Bran and Gendry collected wood for the fire. When it was roaring she left them in charge of tying up their shelters and went to tend to Jory's wound. Thankfully he was right and it wasn't too deep and had hopefully not got any dirt in it. She would clean it just in case though and make sure it was bandaged tightly. It would do no good to risk not doing a good job, especially when it was a man's sword arm.

"What do you think Maester?" Jory joked as she cleansed it, "Will I live?"

"I don't think you'll lose your arm," Arya said with a grin.

"Oh good," Jory smiled.

"Do you want to rest up a few days?" she asked him then.

"No, we keep moving come first light – go on, get to sleep," he urged her.

"I'll take first watch," Gendry offered.

"Wake me when you get tired lad," Jory said and he nodded.

Jory didn't fall asleep at once, he watched as Bran and Arya shifted about to find a comfortable piece of ground and finally closed their eyes. His arm was throbbing slightly and he moved his eyes to Gendry who still looked pale in the light of the fire and he knew the boy must have mixed feelings about his first kill. He had felt the same way the first time he had taken a man's life.

"How old are you lad?" he asked him.

"Sixteen," Gendry replied.

"I know it's tough, knowing you have blood on your hands … but it was him or us," Jory told him.

"I know that," he nodded, "I just never thought I'd be one to kill … I'm just a smith"

"I was just a boy when rebellion came knocking," Jory said.

"Does it get easier?" Gendry asked.

"Aye," he nodded, "but you'll never forget your first kill … at least you did it for good"

"I couldn't let him kill you," Gendry turned to look at him then.

"I'm glad," Jory smiled slightly, "and thank you … if there is ever anything I can reward you with in return you just have to name it"

"That's too kind of you," he said.

"Nonsense," Jory insisted, "you saved my life; thanks to you I might actually make it back to my wife and children"

"Do you think we will make it back?" Gendry asked him then.

"Now we're across the river we don't need to bother people anymore," Jory said, "with a bit of luck I think we have every chance."

* * *

><p><em>Storm's End<em>

* * *

><p>Stannis watched with a grim expression on his face as his brother and his small party approached. It was late afternoon and Stannis was quietly impressed with the size of Renly's army but he would never say that to his face. It didn't matter how big his army was anyway, Stannis' own army was laying siege to Storm's End and if Renly refused to fall into line then he would not be getting his seat back. His seat that he had little or no claim to in the first place as far as Stannis was concerned. Storm's End was the Baratheon seat and should always have been given over to him as the second son when Robert had taken the Iron Throne. In typical Robert style he had overlooked him in favour of their fun-loving little brother and 'gifted' Stannis with Dragonstone. Stannis didn't see it as a gift though, although ironically it might just help him stay out of the reach of Tywin Lannister. Renly was before him now and he looked sideways at Melisandre as his brother grinned jovially at him. Gods the boy was irritatingly happy, even when his lands were overrun.<p>

"Good afternoon brother," Renly said brightly, "nice of you to come and visit … it's a shame I wasn't at home but you seem to have made yourself comfortable"

"This isn't a game Renly," Stannis told him.

"Isn't it?" he raised his brows, "Come now … just give it back"

"I will give it back when you relinquish this ridiculous claim to the throne," Stannis said.

"Ridiculous?" Renly repeated, "I think you'll find I have far more support … the people want me Stannis, best give them what they want"

"I am the rightful heir to the Iron Throne!" Stannis spat at him.

"Support me brother … it's what the people want; I will make you my Hand," Renly said.

"Your Hand?!" Stannis repeated incredulously.

"Yes … just think about it … I am the face the people adore but you make all the decisions, we rule together," Renly persuaded him.

"I am the elder son," Stannis deadpanned.

"Just think about it … we can treat again in the morning," Renly said before he turned and walked back towards where his encampment was setting up leaving Stannis furious.

Renly felt immensely satisfied with himself as he walked away, seeing Stannis had given him great insight into who exactly had rallied for his brother. He didn't think that Stannis would seriously consider his offer of being his Hand but Renly was confident that if it came to a fight that he had more than enough men to crush him. Killing his brother wasn't his intention but if he could send him back to Dragonstone with his tail between his legs then all the better. He turned to those walking with him then with the grin back on his face.

"Did you notice?" he asked them and both Loras and Mace Tyrell frowned slightly.

"No sign of any wolf banners," it was Margaery who answered and he turned to her in surprise.

"Exactly," he said, "and no sign of Ned Stark … no doubt my brother has managed to turn his only certain ally against him"

"If he won't support Stannis then perhaps he will support you as the only remaining Baratheon?" Margaery suggested then.

"Yes my love," Renly bestowed an affectionate smile on her, "I think you could be right."

Loras watched the exchange between them and tried not to feel the stab of bitterness in his heart as they continued to chatter away lightly as they returned to camp. Renly had been coming to him less and less and when he did he always smelled like his sister and it made Loras feel sick. He knew that Renly had to bed Margaery to put a child in her but something was telling him that that wasn't the only reason he was doing it. Something told him that part of Renly enjoyed it and it made the bitterness twist like a knife. He loved Renly and he loved his sister. He should be happy they were managing to get on in their marriage but Renly had promised him that it would change nothing between them. Evidently he had lied.

* * *

><p>Stannis paced, thinking hard. He couldn't agree to what Renly was suggesting – it was preposterous. But if he didn't agree it would come to a fight, his brother would not take him besieging Storm's End lightly and he would fight to reclaim it. If it did come to a fight then there was a very real possibility that Stannis would lose. He may have the keep but he didn't have the men. Even if by some miracle he did win then his forces would be decimated and his chance to take the throne all but lost to him. He turned to look at Melisandre then and he knew that there was only one thing for it. She had promised him results and now it was high time that she proved herself to him. If she succeeded in this he would never question her again.<p>

"I need Renly dealt with," he stated.

"Dealt with?" she repeated.

"The only way of getting rid of the threat without a fight is if he dies before one can break out," he told her and she nodded slowly; "we are supposed to treat in the morning … I will refuse him then and he will no doubt go and ready himself for battle … I want you to make sure that he never walks back out onto the field"

"You are certain about this your Grace?" she asked.

"It's the only way … the throne is mine, if only Renly would see sense," he shook his head.

"I will need something from you, to form the assassin," she said.

"Form the assassin?" he repeated.

"I can conjure up a shadow who cannot be stopped," she told him.

"How?" he asked her, his brows knitting together.

"I need your seed your Grace," she practically purred at him, stepping forwards and unlacing her gown.

He had no words then as she let her dress drop to the floor, her hands now on his doublet, tugging at the ties as she encouraged him back towards the bed. Really he should stop her. This wasn't him. He had always sworn to himself that he would be nothing like Robert, that he would not let his wife suffer the humiliation. He might not be enamoured with Selyse but he was faithful to her. _Until now, _he thought to himself as Melisandre shoved him down and pulled herself astride him. He was ashamed of how painfully hard he was as she began unlacing his breeches. Surely this wasn't the same as bedding some whore? He was doing this because he had to, because it was necessary. It would just be this once, surely that wouldn't matter? _Whatever it takes, _he told himself as they joined together as one.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Thoughts would be awesome! Expect a new chapter early next week.

:)


	17. Rising Stakes

**A/N: **New chapter and things are getting serious! Hope you all enjoy!

**Guest:** You know Tywin, the man could probably delude himself into thinking he could walk on water ;) Aww, Gendry's not that bad is he? Personal favourite of mine lol. This chapter should bring you all the Stannis/Renly and Viserys news you need!

Thoughts would be much appreciated you lovely lot!

:)

* * *

><p><strong>Rising Stakes <strong>

* * *

><p><em>Winterfell <em>

* * *

><p>"Loral?" Dany called through the open door, her brows knitting together when she heard muffled sobs coming from inside the house.<p>

"Just a moment!" Loral called back, her voice rather thick and Dany knew at once it was her she had heard crying.

"Loral whatever is the matter?" she asked her, letting herself into the house and pulling her old nurse into her arms at once.

Loral seemed to break down even more now that she was in Dany's eyes and the younger woman was instantly afraid. She had never seen Loral cry, not like this anyway, she was one of the strongest women she knew and this behaviour was completely uncharacteristic. Fear gripped her as Loral held on tight to her and tried to get her emotions under control. The last thing she had expected to do today was break down in the arms of her surrogate daughter but she hadn't been able to contain herself. For some reason it had all crept up on her when the shout had come down from the walls that there had been Stark banners spotted on the horizon.

"Loral?" Dany asked more urgently, "Please tell me what's happened …"

"Nothing's happened," she choked out, "I just … I just miss Jory is all and it all crept up on me"

"Oh Loral …" Dany sighed, "he will be alright you know …"

"How?" Loral demanded, pulling away so she could look into her eyes, "How do you know that when there has been no word?!"

Dany hesitated then, she didn't want to betray Jon's confidence. He had confessed it one time to her in the library where they were sat together trying to read but constantly distracted by her dragon's eggs. He had told her about his dreams that seemed just a bit too real and that sometimes he was in Ghost's mind. Sometimes Ghost would hunt and it felt like it sustained him and somehow Ghost just knew that his brothers and sisters were alright. If the wolves were alright then that likely meant that the Stark children were alright but Dany couldn't tell Loral about Jon's wolf dreams. Likely she would think her and him mad and not believe it anyway. She sighed then as she looked into Loral's eyes.

"I just know," she said, "Robb is certain that we would have had word if the children were captive"

"Yes," Loral finally said, "yes of course we would … I'm sorry Dany … I just … I just miss him so much"

"I'm sure he's fighting to get back to you," Dany assured her.

"I don't want him to be fighting at all," Loral said sadly.

"I know," she smiled, "please don't worry … I'm sure everything will turn out alright"

"Thank you Dany," Loral smiled back as hooves were heard clattering into the courtyard, "you ought to go – no doubt Lord Stark will want to see you."

* * *

><p>"Ned!"<p>

He was barely off his horse before Catelyn threw herself into his arms and he held her so tightly he was surprised she could still breathe as she clung to him, her head buried in the crook of his neck. Gods he had missed her, he had missed her so damn much and he thanked the Gods over and over as he held her, breathing in her familiar scent and promising himself that he would never let her go.

"I'm sorry Cat, I'm so, so sorry," he whispered.

"You're alright," she whispered back, "you're alright Ned … I was so scared …"

"The children?" he asked then.

"They're not back yet my love," she told him and he finally pushed her away from him so he could look into her eyes which were wide and shining.

"They should have been back by now," he said, his own eyes betraying fear.

"Robb thinks they may have been forced into the wilds," she said, trying to keep the shake from her voice.

"Have you heard anything from the Capitol?" he asked her.

"No," she shook her head, "nothing … Robb said we would have heard something if they had them as captives"

"Robb's right," he nodded, some of his fear abating, "we can only wait … Jory knows what he's doing"

"I hope so," she whispered.

"Father!" Robb's voice rang out then and Ned finally looked away from his wife to see his son sprinting towards him.

They crushed one another into an embrace then and Ned vowed to himself that he would do everything in his power to make sure his family survived whatever was coming for them. Whatever he had to do he would do it to keep his family safe and secure. Three of his children were missing thanks to his actions, he should have listened to Catelyn and left them behind with her. He cursed himself, clutching Robb closer. She hadn't looked at him accusingly though, not once and for that he was more grateful than he would ever be able to express. He pulled himself away from his eldest son then and looked at him, meeting his eyes that were almost identical to his mother's.

"It's still standing then?" he managed a smile and saw Robb's own lips quirk up.

"As are you," his son quipped and his smile widened slightly.

"Just about," he chuckled, "are the Lords here?"

"Aye," Robb nodded, a slightly irritated expression on his face, "they'll be glad you're back"

"I suppose I ought to face them," he sighed, "come … you ought to join me"

"As you wish," Robb agreed but Ned saw the grim look cross his face and he sighed.

"Pay no mind to Lord Umber … he was the same with me when the Rebellion started," he told him and Robb looked more reassured.

"Father!" Rickon bowled towards him then as he and Robb turned towards the keep.

"My you've grown little one!" he managed a smile as he picked him up and held him close for a moment.

"I've been learning house sigils!" Rickon declared happily.

"Good," Ned smiled, "that's very good"

"Are Sansa and Arya and Bran not with you?" he asked then and Ned exchanged a look with Robb.

"I came on a boat … they're coming a different way so they'll be a little longer," Ned told him.

"But who's looking after them?" Rickon frowned at him.

"They're with Jory," Ned said and his son looked instantly relaxed.

"Rickon, come now, your father has much to do," Catelyn came to his side and Ned lowered Rickon back down to the ground.

"I'll be as quick as I can," he addressed his wife more than his son and she nodded.

"Do what you must," she said and it was his turn to nod before he continued on his way.

They met Dany before they could reach the steps and Ned saw the look of worry and slight apprehension in her eyes and he sighed heavily before embracing her lightly. He could feel her body relax then and he was pained that she had been worried about his return and his reaction, as if he could blame her for his imprisonment? There was no one to blame for that but Stannis for listening to his red witch. When he pulled away Dany managed a smile for him which he returned as he kept his hands placed on her shoulders.

"I don't have to ask to know you've been blaming yourself, but I don't want any of your apologies do you hear me?" he said, "You are part of this family Dany and I would no sooner give you up than I would my own children"

"Thank you Lord Stark," she whispered, her eyes shining as she smiled up at him. He squeezed her shoulders lightly in return before he let go and finally turned to enter the keep.

* * *

><p>"For obvious reasons my intended alliance with Stannis is no more," Ned was saying as all the Lords settled into their seats.<p>

"Renly Baratheon has declared himself King," Robb told him and he raised his brows – that was news to him.

"He's more popular than Stannis and has Highgarden on his side," Lord Karstark said and Ned nodded slowly.

"If the North joined him his forces would be unstoppable," Lord Umber put in.

"Is it true Stannis has a sorceress?" Mage Mormont asked then.

"Aye, a priestess he called her," Ned said, "but I heard different"

"What's one woman to an army of thousands?" Lord Karstark asked.

"Aye, we'll put her down like we'll put Stannis down!" Lord Umber declared.

"Are you all in agreement?" Ned asked, "We march for Renly?"

"For Renly!" the cry was echoed around the chamber and Ned nodded grimly.

* * *

><p><em>Storm's End<em>

* * *

><p>Renly was slightly irritated as he walked back into his tent. He had expected Stannis to refuse him but he was still a little put out that his brother had clearly not even considered his offer. In his mind it made perfect sense. Stannis may have the brains but he had the charm and the looks and the beautiful wife. His beautiful wife was laying on the bed completely bare where he walking in, on her stomach reading a book. He could admit that he enjoyed bedding her now; it still felt strange to him but not in a bad way. Guilt stabbed at him then as he thought of Loras and the fact that he had been spending less and less time with him since he had married Margaery. He told himself that once his wife was with child that he would spend more time with his lover but in truth the thought just made him feel even more guilty. Margaery was his wife and yet he still lusted after another – her own brother. She was already far more understanding that he had had any right to expect from her and he vowed in that moment that he would try and give Loras up. His wife deserved him to be devoted to her and any child they had needed a father to be proud of not one to be ashamed of. A loving family, that's what he wanted – he never wanted his children to end up like he and Stannis had, about to face one another in battle.<p>

"How did it go with Stannis?" Margaery interrupted his thoughts then and he approached her.

"He said no, as you said he would," he said, trailing his fingers lightly up and down her spine.

"Will you march against him?" she asked him.

"I don't have much choice … I've told the men to be ready by sundown," he said.

"You don't think he will strike first?" she questioned.

"He has the better vantage point … he won't give that up," he said certainly.

"As you say," she nodded.

"Enough about this for now," he said, "I would have my wife before I ride into battle"

She smiled slightly then and closed the book she had been reading, setting it aside as he stripped off his clothes. To her surprise he didn't climb behind her and grip her hips as he usually did, his hands instead encouraging her to turn onto her back. She looked up at him in slight confusion as he crawled between her legs but before she could say anything he bent to kiss her. This was new. Renly never kissed her, not like this anyway. Whenever they kissed it was always chaste and formal and almost always for the benefit of a watching crowd. Now he was kissing her deeply, his bare body pressed against hers and she could feel him hard against her as she shifted her legs up to wrap around his waist. She actually shuddered with desire then as he shifted his body so he could slip inside her. He thrust hard, his lips moving from hers and travelling down her neck as she found herself wanting to cry out in pleasure. Renly took heart from her sharp breaths in his ear, coaxing her legs up higher and thrusting harder, the feel of her surrounding him feeling as good as ever.

Her nails dug into his shoulders then as he quickened the pace, her own hips moving to meet his rhythm and sharp cries leaving her mouth now as he made her feel things she had never felt with him before. This time it actually felt like he cared, like he wanted to be with her instead of just bedding her out of duty. She wasn't fool enough to think that that meant he loved her or that he had forgotten Loras but it was a start at least. Her stomach was tightening in knots now as pleasure consumed her, moans leaving her mouth involuntarily as the coils of hidden rope inside her all seemed to snap at once, her body exploding into a state of what she could only describe as bliss. Renly collapsed down against her neck in the next instant and she could feel his warmth spreading through her as they both breathed hard, her chest heaving against his as they tried to calm themselves. He pressed a kiss to her neck after a moment and lifted his head to look at her for a moment, a small smile quirking at his lips for a moment before he bent to touch them to hers. They kissed softly for a long minute before he pulled away and pulled himself up from the bed. Margaery watched him as he reached for his robe, pulling it about him before turning to her.

"I don't know about you but I could use some wine," he commented and she smiled widely.

"That would be lovely," she said.

"I'll pour us some," he said, making his way to the partition in their tent to head into the living area.

"I'll be right there," she replied and he smiled before disappearing from view.

Margaery could hear him moving things around as she finally got herself out of bed, her body still recovering from the pleasure Renly had pushed through her. She smiled to herself as she pulled on her own robe, tying it about her waist as Renly's voice floated through the partition.

"What are you doing here?"

She frowned then. Perhaps she should get dressed properly if they had company. She was just reaching for her dress when she heard his scream and she was darting for the delicate partitioning curtains at once and wrenching them aside. He was on his knees with blood pouring from him, his eyes wide as he stared at her in disbelief. A scream left her own mouth then as she shouted for help, her feet managing to move towards him before she dropped to her own knees in front of him, her hands going disbelievingly to his chest. His own hands grabbed at her robe, his hands clenching in the material that covered her stomach as his mouth tried to form words.

"Renly?!" she gasped, "Renly who did this?!"

"Stannis," he managed, his voice so quiet it was barely a whisper.

"Hold on Renly!" she implored him as his hand slackened around her robe.

He slumped forwards into her then and she held onto him as sobs rose up in her throat, knowing that he was dead. Knowing that no one could save him.

* * *

><p>Their voices were growing louder and more urgent around her but she couldn't make out the words as she sat there feeling completely numb. Renly was gone. That was all she could think. Her husband was dead, murdered just moments after he had made love to her. Moments after he had been smiling and she had finally felt like they were making progress. She stared out at them as they continued to argue, her hands clenching slightly in the silk of her robe that was drenched in his blood. They had taken his body away after they had finally managed to prise her hands from him but she could still see him so clearly, knelt on the ground with the look of disbelief in his eyes. Stannis. He had said Stannis. His own brother had murdered him in cold blood. Margaery couldn't quite understand how Stannis could have got into camp but Renly had spoken his name. He had named him as his killer and Margaery would curse him until the last breath left her body.<p>

"Margaery!" her father's sharp voice finally pierced through her void and she looked up, "you need to get cleaned up!"

"Leave her," Loras snapped, "can't you see she's in shock?!"

"She doesn't have time to be in shock! We need to consider our next move and make sure it's a good one!" Mace snapped right back.

"For once he's right," Olena said, "word of this will spread quickly"

"Her husband is dead, can you not give her a moment?!" Loras demanded incredulously.

"We need to decide, Stannis or the Lannister's," Mace continued.

"Stannis," Margaery said then, her voice raspy.

"Margaery?" Loras turned to her.

"Stannis killed him …" she said, shaking her head, "not Stannis!"

"Did you see him Margaery?" Loras was before her now and shaking her slightly.

"No," she shook her head, a tear sliding down her cheek, "Renly said it … he said it before he …"

"Hush now it's alright," her brother's arms came around her then and she clung to him, knowing that he needed comfort just as much as she did in this moment.

"We could persuade Tywin … the Stark girl is not such an attractive prospect now her father is wanted for treason," Olena said.

"You think we could persuade him Margaery is a maid?" Mace asked her.

"The seven kingdoms knew Renly's preference," Olena said dismissively.

"What if I'm with child?" Margaery asked then.

"Then you will tell me and we will deal with it before it becomes a problem," Olena said sharply and Margaery stared at her is disbelief.

"Perhaps she should drink moon tea just in case," Mace said.

"No!" Margaery burst out, "there is no need … I have bled," she lied.

"And he has not managed to bed you since?" Olena asked her.

"No," she lied again, avoiding Loras' eyes.

"Then I suppose we must grovel to Tywin Lannister," she said with a wry smile.

"Can I leave it to you mother?" Mace asked.

"Don't you always," she sighed heavily.

* * *

><p><em>Pentos<em>

* * *

><p>The sun was at its highest and almost unbearably hot as Illyrio stood out on the terrace and looked out towards the gardens where the servants were setting up a shade and laying out lunch for Viserys. He smiled grimly and swept his eyes over the pools and the statues that decorated his expansive gardens. It truly was a beautiful day. The sun was glinting beautifully onto the surface of the pool water and there were a few birds chirping in the still air. Peace. He sighed happily then before his perfect illusion was shattered.<p>

Something was clearly wrong.

Again.

He rolled his eyes then. Viserys had been getting steadily worse and Illyrio no longer had any patience left for him. He had written to Varys and told him the truth of the man's madness, leaving no detail out and imploring him to put all the efforts into the other. If things went badly there then there was always Daenerys. Viserys was a liability. All thoughts of the three-headed dragon flew from his mind when he looked at him raging at one of the servants out in the gardens. Evidently something wasn't to his liking. There was always something. The man had an unattractive sense of entitlement which did not go well at all with the madness that he had inherited from his father. Better a two-headed dragon than the mess that Viserys would no doubt make. The man would have never been able to work with others anyway – especially when one of them had a better claim than him.

Illyrio beckoned a servant of his own forwards then and they came, bowing low to him and waiting for his instruction; "do make sure our esteemed guest is given the _very best _wine," he said and the servant bowed low again before meeting his eyes. Illyrio saw the understanding in them and inclined his head to the man who took his leave at the gesture. He moved his eyes back to Viserys then as he began to eat his food. Ordinarily he would have joined him but he didn't have the stomach for him today – the man infuriated him and likely he would have been unable to hold his tongue. The last thing he needed was Viserys storming off today.

He rested his arms against the balcony of the terrace and gazed out into the distance; across Pentos and out towards the harbour where he could see ships lazily sailing in and out. He refused to turn and look back towards Viserys when he heard the offer of wine made. Still he refused as the offer was briskly accepted and he heard the clink of glass on glass. The next moments were filled with silence. It wasn't until spluttered coughs and the scream of a woman pierced the air that he finally turned. Viserys was turning red, his hand clutching at his throat as he choked, his face slowly turning blue. Illyrio imagined the vessels popping in his eyes and turning them bloodshot as he finally stopped convulsing and grabbing at himself, his body stilling as it slumped to the side. He fell from the chair then, his lifeless weight hitting the ground with a dull thud and Illyrio closed his eyes and let out a long, relieved sigh.

* * *

><p>The first letter he had sealed and signed and sent with a man he could trust on horseback. He didn't trust a raven with the news he had written, and he wanted assurances that the letter had reached its intended destination. Griff wasn't stupid. He would take the advice that Illyrio had written if he wanted what was best for the boy. This was the best chance. Now. With the kingdoms divided and the North still having not declared for anyone. Twenty thousand men stood waiting for him if he played his cards right. Lord Stark had been disgusted by the murders of Elia's children and Illyrio hoped that that would be enough to make him at least stop and consider this alternative. The best hope was Daenerys. That she recognised the boy as her kin and persuaded the Starks to his cause. According to Varys the girl was well loved in the North and he was hopeful that she would be the bridge they needed to get the outcome they desired.<p>

It was the second letter to the North that he was struggling with. He had addressed it to Lord Stark rather than Daenerys herself and he was trying to break the news of her brother's demise in the gentlest way he could. He also had to make sure that no finger of suspicion was pointed at him and so he chose his words carefully. It was a struggle writing to a man he had never met, second guessing every single word he placed into the letter, his mind positively bursting with all the thinking he was doing. He sighed heavily and took a long drink of wine before casting his eyes back to the paper. _Any one of us could have taken it, it was sent by someone we trusted … we never suspected that they would do such a thing. No doubt Viserys wasn't the intended victim … unfortunately I have many enemies who would gladly see me dead. It pains me that a young man took my place with the Gods. _Too much? Not enough? He sighed again. Either he sent it or he didn't. Besides, what did it matter if anyone suspected him? No one would be able to prove it and Lord Stark would have far more pressing matters to focus on soon enough.

He folded the letter carefully then and dribbled the wax on, pressing his seal into it with finality, waving the letter back and forth so the wax set as he tried to guess exactly what would happen next. If Griff had any sense he and the boy would be setting sail with the Golden Company once he received his letter. Then they would have to seek the girl out and hope that their word and the boys striking appearance was enough to convince them of his cause. So many 'ifs'. Illyrio sighed again. It would do no good to dwell on things he couldn't control. He had pointed them all in the right direction, now all he could do was hoped they steered the ship along the course he intended for them.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Ooof, they're dropping like flies. Hope you guys enjoyed that - more soon!

:)


	18. Leap of Faith

**A/N: **New chapter! Hope you all enjoy it, some tasty little developments going on ;)

**Guest:** Hello again! I very much enjoyed your letter, I mean review lol ;) seriously though, thank you for taking the time to write it. I felt bad about Renly too, when I planned it I was just like 'yep, he's got to die', when it came to it though I was rather gutted though. He grew on me but I couldn't change my plan so there we are. Viserys you can imagine, was much easier to dispatch! What the North is to do you will see in this chapter. As for wildlings and Greyjoy's ... of course they will make trouble but not until much later on ;) Hope you enjoy this one and feel free to write me another letter! xD

:)

* * *

><p><strong>Leap of Faith<strong>

* * *

><p><em>The Flint Cliffs<em>

* * *

><p>Arya sat up a little straighter as she heard the rustling of leaves behind her. She turned and strained her eyes in the darkness, the snores of those with her the only thing she could hear now. Likely it was just the wind in the trees but she felt a sense of unease and so she slowly pulled Needle from its sheath and shifted her body to face the direction the noise had come from. Her heart was pounding even though she heard nothing else to suggest that someone or several someone's were there. Ever since the incident on the river they had all been more on edge but since they had passed to the other side of the woodland that stretched up to the Flint Cliffs Jory had relaxed slightly. They were truly in the North now and he doubted that any Lannister hunting parties would stray so far. Lannister's weren't the only thing to fear here though, Arya knew that well enough from the stories Old Nan had told her and from overhearing what her father got up to when he journeyed out from Winterfell. She shook her head as she thought of her father; thinking of him made her eyes sting as she couldn't help but wonder if he had made it out of the Capitol and if he had somehow managed to get Sansa out as well.<p>

She heard the noise again then, closer this time and she shifted up onto her knees, tightening her grip on Needle as she did so. It crossed her mind to wake Jory and the others but before she could the source of the noise presented itself and she could have laughed in relief as Nymeria padded out of the gloom, coming at once to Arya and nuzzling her head against her shoulder. She stroked her lovingly – the wolves had been absent the past few days, Arya felt that somehow they knew that they had to keep out of the way. Now they were back in the North though she was glad that her faithful beast had returned to her. Nymeria lay herself down then and Arya snuggled up against her, far more relaxed than she had been before. Her eyes were almost closed then when Nymeria began to growl and she lifted herself up at once, trying to see what he wolf had as Nymeria's fur stood up on end, snarls and snaps leaving her mouth as she looked into the trees.

Jory was stirring awake then and Arya picked up Needle again as someone emerged from the trees with a sword of their own drawn. Before Arya could even blink several more people came into view and her stomach twisted uncomfortably. Where were they all coming from?

Nymeria sailed through the air then as one of the men came towards them, menacingly brandishing an axe. Arya tried to close her eyes as her wolf clamped her jaw around the man's neck but she couldn't help but stare as Nymeria tore out his throat, blood gushing from his neck when she let go and let him drop dead the floor. She hoped that his grizzly end would deter the others but even more of them were appearing now and she cried out for Jory and Gendry, telling Bran to get back away from it all. Jory shoved passed her in an instant, pushing her back towards Bran and engaging someone in combat as Nymeria ripped her way through a second and a third victim. Bran backed into a tree then and she stood in front of him with Needle gripped so firmly in her hand that it was almost painful. Gendry and Jory had both cut their way through a man each as Nymeria continued her own assault but still there were others and Arya could understand why there were so many of them.

She almost let a scream come from her mouth then as a hand grabbed at her and she kicked hard at the man's shins causing him to grunt in pain as she readjusted the grip on her sword. Before he had managed to recover himself from her kicks she had gone for him and stabbed Needle right through his gut. He groaned in pain and the hot blood spilled out over her hands as she struggled to wrench Needle free again. Bran was staring at her as she tried to pull her sword from the man, his attention so fixed on her that he didn't notice the man sneaking up on him until he was grabbed at. He cried out and Arya tugged even harder on Needle, finally pulling the sword free and going for the man who held her little brother. Before she could reach him though a wolf tore through the air, knocking the man to the ground, Bran rolling away from his clutches as the wolf ripped him apart.

"Summer," he breathed in relief and Arya let out her own breath.

Their other assailants seemed a lot less confident now that another wolf had joined the fray and the few that were still standing fled from their little camp as Summer and Nymeria snarled in their wake. Thankfully the wolves didn't chase after them, staying instead at the sides of their masters as they tried to calm themselves down.

"Are you both alright?" Jory's voice called then and they turned to make their way towards him.

"We're fine," Arya said weakly.

"Arya killed a man," Bran said and Jory raised his brows.

"You hurt?" he asked her and she shook her head.

"Not a scratch," she promised and he looked satisfied if a little uneasy.

"Gendry?" he asked then as he too made his way back to them.

"Fine," Gendry replied and he nodded.

"Who were those people?" Arya asked.

"Wildlings," Jory answered her.

"This far south? But how did they get over the Wall?" Bran asked.

"Believe me, wildlings have their ways," Jory said darkly.

* * *

><p><em>Craster's Keep<em>

* * *

><p>Benjen would rather be anywhere else in the world but this was the only place for leagues and leagues where they would get a hot meal and something resembling a roof over their heads. Craster would whine and moan for as long as he deemed necessary and then he would give in and let them stay for the night. Benjen hated being in his presence though, the man was deplorable and he was prepared to resent every second spent here biting down on his tongue. His men looked just as uneasy as they approached the 'keep' seeing several of Craster's daughter-wives milling about casting them suspicious looks. He didn't let his eyes linger on them as some of his men were doing, that would not endear them to Craster and he wasn't fond of the Night's Watch in the first place. Benjen sighed then, the old letch always gave up his information in the end – he couldn't help himself.<p>

"Crows is it?" the man himself said as they entered his abode; "What do you want?"

"Your hospitality for the night," Benjen said and he snorted.

"Got wives to feed you know … winter is coming," he said, his eyes dancing with glee and Benjen sighed heavily.

"Just for the night," he said, "surely you can stretch to that?"

"Maybe that I can," Craster said, scratching at his chin, "but any of your men lay a hand on my girls and I'll cut their cocks off"

"They will keep their hands to themselves," Benjen promised.

"One night you say?" he checked.

"One night," Benjen confirmed and he nodded slowly.

"It'll cost you," he said and Benjen fought not to roll his eyes.

"How does three barrels of finest northern mead sound?" Benjen asked him.

"Seems a fair price," Craster said and he almost snorted – the price was extortionate and they all knew it but they still played along.

Benjen and his men seated himself then as Craster's daughter-wives flitted about fixing up their meal. None of them spoke much, all of them trying to keep their eyes fixed determinedly on the floor so Craster couldn't accuse them of eyeing his girls. The whole arrangement disgusted Benjen but if this was how the man had chosen to live he had no right to pass judgement over him. North of the Wall folk were free to do as they pleased and it pleased Craster to marry his daughters and have them bear more daughters for him to marry. He took his bowl of hot stew then with thanks, making sure not to make eye contact with the girl who had handed it to him. Him and his men ate in silence and tried to ignore the moans of pain coming from outside the keep that he could only guess belonged to a woman in labour. Craster seemed unaffected by the whole thing, only shouting out between mouthfuls of his own dinner for the others to shut the woman up.

As they finished their dinner and handed their empty bowls back to one of the women another few came in from outside with news of the baby.

"Well?" Craster demanded gruffly.

"A boy," one of the women informed him and he sighed heavily.

"Be ready at sundown," he said and she nodded curtly before walking back outside.

Benjen didn't ask. He knew better that to ask what that meant. They would only be here for one night and the only information he wanted was information on what exactly Mance Rayder was up to. He chanced a glance at Craster then but the man looked distracted. His eyes soon snapped to Benjen's though and he fixed him with a searching look that made him feel thoroughly unsettled.

"What do you want to know crow?" he asked.

"Mance Rayder," Benjen said simply.

"He was one of you once," Craster said and Benjen heard the mocking tone.

"I am aware of that, what I'm unaware of is what he's doing now," he said evenly.

"Gathering all the wildlings together," Craster told him.

"Impossible," Benjen shook his head, "the clans hate one another … there is no way …"

"It's happening crow," he said and Benjen frowned deeply.

"Why?" he asked simply.

"Now that is a question I don't know the answer to and nor do I care to join him to find out," Craster said and Benjen nodded.

"Thank you," he said and Craster snorted before easing himself out of his chair and heading towards the door.

Benjen watched him disappear out into the darkening day and stood himself up, telling his men to stay where they were and not to even think of touching any of the women. They murmured their agreement as Benjen made his way to the door, hiding slightly in the shadows as he watched a woman crying as Craster took a bundle in his arms that Benjen could only assume was his new born son. Craster walked away then with the babe still in his arms and Benjen made to follow him, keeping a good distance away and sticking to the shadows as much as he could. He followed him into the trees and hid himself behind the trunks as Craster continued on. Eventually he reached a clearing and Benjen crouched down in the undergrowth and watched with his heart pounding as Craster lay the babe down on a rock before turning and walked away. Benjen stayed where he was, unable to tear his eyes from the little bundle that was now starting to wail. He had to fight every single instinct in his body not to get up and take the babe into his own arms. Just as he was about to give in, wanting nothing more than to comfort the babe and take him back to his mother, there was rustling from the other side of the clearing and he stayed frozen where he was.

What he saw made him want to scream out into the night. The man was dead, pale white and walking towards the rock where the babe lay. Benjen bit down on his fist to stop himself crying out as the creature's bright blue eyes fixed on the crying bundle. Gods he had wanted so badly to believe that it was a story, that the wildlings were spinning tales for their own amusement but here it was in front of him. Proof. Proof that the walkers had risen again, more terrible than the tales that Old Nan had ever told him. He could taste blood in his mouth then as the creature bent down to pick up the babe, the boys crying starting to cease now he was in those cold, dead arms. Benjen wanted to do something but there was no way he could fight a walker, they were already dead. Only weapons made of dragonglass could kill them as far as the legends told. He didn't have any dragonglass, only steel and steel would do nothing to the lifeless creature that was walking from the clearing with Craster's son in its arms.

* * *

><p><em>Winterfell<em>

* * *

><p>Ned let out a long, tired breath as he read out the letter and he could feel Robb's eyes on him as his son worked on the opposite side of the room. The news of Renly had been bad enough but now this. He put his head in his hands then and massaged his temples for a moment as he tried to think of the best way to break the news. Really there was no good way, just as there had been no good way to tell the Lords that Renly was dead and they had no one to declare for anymore. The decision had eventually been made to protect the borders and men had been sent down to the strongholds. Ned thought it unlikely that anyone would march on the North yet, not when there was plenty of trouble in the south to be dealing with. For now he would keep well out of the war but there was nothing he could do to escape this news. He looked towards Robb then and his son frowned at him quizzically.<p>

"Can you go and fetch Dany?" Ned asked him.

"Of course," he rose up, "is something wrong?"

"I need to speak with her," Ned said and Robb nodded again, his frown deepening but he said no more as he made his way from the room.

He returned all to quickly with Dany on his heels and Ned wished that he had spent a little longer trying to find her so he could have had a chance of coming up with a way to tell her. Ned sighed and stood, walking to stand in front of her and seeing her lift her eyes up to meet his. She was such a sweet girl – this was the last thing she deserved but he couldn't keep it from her.

"I received a letter from Pentos," he began and her brow creased slightly, "it contained news of your brother Viserys … I'm sorry Dany … I'm afraid he's dead"

"Dead?" she repeated in a whisper, "How?"

"He was poisoned … I'm so very sorry," Ned said sincerely as her eyes filled with tears.

"Thank you for telling me," she said softly.

"If there is anything I can do …" he began.

"May I be excused?" she asked him.

"Of course," he said and she nodded her thanks, turning to walk from the room as the tears threatened to spill out of her.

Robb stared at his father then for a long moment and Ned could see the conflict in his eyes. He wanted to go after her that much was clear but Ned knew that like him, Robb had no idea what he could possibly say to her to make it better. Perhaps just his presence would be enough, the two of them had always been close; "go after her," he said gently and Robb didn't need telling twice, practically sprinting from the room.

Robb ran down the hallways, stopping everyone he saw on his way and asking them if they had seen which way Dany had gone. She had definitely left the keep he had learned that much and he ran out into the courtyard and scanned the area for her. He could see her nowhere and his heart pounded ferociously in his chest. Perhaps she had gone out into the gardens, somewhere peaceful. He grabbed a passer-by then and asked them hurriedly if they had seen her. They thought she might have gone to the library and he thanked them hastily before running as fast as his legs would allow him to the library tower, pounding up the steps and practically falling through the door.

She was stood with her back to him and he took a deep breath, trying to calm his pounding heart as he approached her. He hesitated slightly before placing his hands gently on her shoulders.

"You know," she said quietly, "I always had this dream that he was happy like me, that he had found a family across the Narrow Sea who cared for him and would keep him safe. That even though we were apart our lives were somehow mirroring each other's. I so badly wanted him to be happy and secure but how could he have been? How could he have been safe and happy if someone could poison him in the place he called home?"

"I don't know Dany," he said honestly, squeezing his shoulders.

"Was he miserable and scared all this time I was happy and looked after?" she asked him.

"You can't think like that," he said softly as she put her head in her hands, her body shaking slightly as the tears took over her.

Robb wanted so badly to pull her around and crush her into his arms and say all the right things to make it better but he could not think of a single comforting word as he kept his grip strong on her shoulders as she continued to cry. His mother always said that sometimes it helped to cry, she cried sometimes when she missed her father or when she thought about her mother. Sometimes that's just what she needed to do and afterwards she would feel better. Something told him that Dany would need more than a few minutes of tears to make this better though and his heart ached for her. He hated seeing her in pain and knowing he could do nothing about it.

"I'm all alone," she choked out then, "it was just him and me left and now he's gone and I'm all alone in the world!"

"You're not alone," he told her firmly, "you are not alone and you never will be"

"It always used to comfort me when I couldn't sleep," she confessed, "the knowledge that I had a brother out there who might be looking up at the same stars as I was"

"Dany," he breathed, finally turning her around to face him; "you have a family here and you always will, Winterfell is your home"

"I know," she whispered, meeting his eyes.

"You're loved here Dany, my family loves you … _I _love you," he said and her shining eyes widened.

His heart pounded even more wildly then, part of him unable to believe what he had just confessed to her. It seemed like an age but finally she inched a fraction closer to him, her eyes still holding his and he leant slowly towards her, finally pressing his lips to hers. She inhaled sharply and he pulled back, cursing himself for making an advance on her when she was so upset. Before he could take it back or apologise though she had leant up and touched her lips to his again. He pulled her closer then and her hands wrapped around his neck, her fingers toying with the curls at the back of his head as their lips seemed to melt together. The kiss was becoming increasingly frantic and Dany tore her lips from his as he backed them into the shelves, one of her hands coming to steady herself against them; "I love you Robb," she managed to get out then between his kisses and at her confession he kissed her even more forcefully.

Desire was taking them both over now and before either of them knew it her legs were wrapped around his waist and he was pulling up her skirts. It was as though all the tension that had surrounded them for so long had finally manifested itself and even though Robb knew it was wrong he couldn't help himself and he knew that she felt the same from the way her hands were roaming his torso, searching for the fastenings of his doublet. Her fingers were deftly loosening it now as he let his own hands squeeze around her upper thighs. When her hands found his bare chest he groaned into her mouth, one of his hands moving from her to unthread his laces. Before he could do though a shout floated up the stairs and their lips finally wrenched away from one another's as the shout rang out again. It was Jon. They were looking for them, the family were worried. Robb felt guilty then, stepping back so Dany could place her feet back on the floor, her hands rearranging her skirts as he called out to Jon that they would be right there, his own hands going to fasten up his shirt and doublet.

"I'm sorry," he said then, his breathing still ragged.

"I was as bad as you," she said and he heard the underlying tone of regret.

"I don't want to dishonour you Dany I'm sorry," he breathed, cupping a hand round one of her cheeks.

"I know you don't," she whispered, sadness welling up in her again for a whole different reason.

"I meant what I said, I love you," he told her, meeting her eyes.

"I love you too," she promised him and his lips quirked up.

"I could listen to you say that forever," he confessed and her own mouth managed a smile.

"We should go," she said, making to move away from him but he grabbed her hand and pulled her back into his arms.

"I'm not letting you go, not now," he said fiercely.

"Robb …" she started, he had to stop this – it would do neither of them any good.

"We're going to do this properly … I'm going to talk to my father," he said and her eyes widened.

"Robb …" she began again but he cut her off with a kiss.

"Don't argue with me Dany," he almost growled when he pulled away, "I don't want anyone but you."

* * *

><p><em>Aboard the 'Shy Maid'<em>

* * *

><p>Griff looked out over the bow of the ship, seeing the sun rising above the horizon before he let his eyes flicker back to the letter in his hands. <em>It could be the best chance you … Sail to the North they have declared for no one … Daenerys is kin, she can turn the Stark's to your favour. <em>The words made sense but it was still a risk. What if this Daenerys had no power or influence over the Stark's? Illyrio was assuming far too much but what if this truly was their best chance? He heard stamping footsteps behind him then and saw the young man emerging from below deck, his hand pushing his shoulder length dyed blue hair from his sleepy eyes.

"What news?" he asked Griff, eyeing the letter in his hands.

"Illyrio seems to think the time is right to set sail," he told him.

"And what do you think?"

"I think this could be our best chance … your aunt Daenerys is still in the North and the North has not yet declared for anyone," Griff said and the lad frowned slightly.

"Why not?" he asked.

"I can't answer that," Griff shrugged.

"Do you truly think we have a chance of persuading them?" he pressed.

"Persuading them of what? Your true identity or to join us?" Griff returned.

"Both," the young man scowled.

"They're our best hope … Ned Stark will not be able to deny your appearance," Griff told him.

"The man who helped wipe out my house?" he asked almost angrily.

"The man who saved your aunt from death, the man who argued publically with the usurper over your supposed death and the death of your sister," Griff soothed him.

"He still became that usurper's Hand," he spat.

"And he still keeps Daenerys safe and we need her what with Viserys' death," Griff said.

"Three heads the tales say, and where do you suppose we find the third?!" he demanded.

"Never mind that … an army is more important right now," Griff said.

"How many does the North command?" he asked.

"Twenty thousand, and with Ned Stark wed into house Tully it is likely they could call on the Riverlands … and perhaps the Eyrie," Griff answered.

"Could any stop us?" he asked.

"Highgarden have large numbers but Renly and Stannis Baratheon are at odds with one another," Griff replied and he watched as the young man contemplated his words.

"You think the North is our best hope?" he finally asked.

"I think if you want to take your birth-right and reveal yourself to be Aegon Targaryen then the North is your best hope," Griff answered.

"Then that's settled," he said, looking out into the distance, "we sail to the North."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Thoughts on these new developments would be awesome!

:)


	19. Game Changer

**A/N: **New chapter! Hope you guys all enjoy it!

**Guest:** Thank you! I'm so pleased with what you said about Aegon, I've had rather mixed reactions so it was nice to read something so positive. What you said about Jon is spot on as well. If Aegon does stick around I can absolutely hand on heart promise you that he won't marry Arya! Also, Sansa won't be paired up with any of those that you mentioned so hopefully that will make you happy too. Don't worry about it sounding like a rant, I appreciate the review and I wouldn't have known you weren't writing in your native language if you hadn't told me! Hope you keep enjoying the story!

**Guest:** I know! Sorry about that, I did think that when writing it and I meant to check it before I put the chapter up but I plain forgot. I have gone back and amended it now so there will be no more talk of dragons killing walkers. Wights on the other hand ...

**that same guest:** Hello again! Glad you're still enjoying! Bran ... Bran ... what to say about Bran? His path won't be the same, so much has already changed for him but I am planning to introduce his greenseer abilities at some point. That doesn't mean he's going to go off on any adventure beyond the Wall though. Events have changed so any visions he has will change to reflect that. Robb will fight for her I can assure you of that and I'm so glad you enjoyed their 'finally' moment haha. You can assume he is real, although he might have to prove that. As for the dragons/WW thing, I've gone back and changed it. But as you said, the dragons would still be a big help with the wights!

Right then! On with the chapter, thoughts would be awesome!

:)

* * *

><p><strong>Game Changer<strong>

* * *

><p><em>Flint's Finger<em>

* * *

><p>"Is that it?" Arya asked as they reached the brow of the hill and looked across at the castle on the edge of the cliffs.<p>

"That's it," Jory confirmed and she laughed out in relief.

"Are we there?" Gendry asked as he struggled to regain his breath.

"We're on the flat now lad and we'll reach it in less than an hour," Jory grinned.

Arya and Bran bounded ahead with their wolves, Jory and Gendry following on at a much more leisurely pace. Jory could scarce believe that they had finally made it as he and Gendry strolled up to the gates where Bran and Arya were waiting impatiently for them. He ushered them through and they made their way through the crowds, many people giving them a wide berth when they caught sight of the direwolves. Jory told them to stay at the foot of the steps to the keep as he made his way up them, unsurprised when a guard stepped across to block his way.

"Do you have business here?" the man asked him.

"My name is Jory Cassel and I am Captain of the Guards at Winterfell, I'm escorting Lord Stark's children from the Capitol and I would speak with Lord Flint," Jory answered him.

The guard looked at him for a moment before his eyes went around him to the children and the wolves waiting at the bottom of the steps. His face seemed to set determinedly then and Jory knew he believed his tale. If the wolves didn't convince him then nothing would have.

"I will show you to the solar and fetch Lord Flint … are those wolves trained?" he asked.

"Better behaved than the children," Jory jested and the guard smiled.

"Come, follow me," he said and Jory gestured for the children to follow him inside.

They did as he bid and they all settled nervously in the solar, Arya's leg jumping up and down as they waited as Bran and Gendry shifted uncomfortably. The wolves padded around quietly, sniffing at their new surroundings and sending meaningful looks to their masters every now and again. Jory smiled slightly before jumping to his feet as the door opened, bowing uncertainly.

"Lord Flint?" he questioned and the man smiled.

"Robin," he introduced, grasping Jory's hand for a moment, "Lord Stark will be most relieved at your arrival … but … is there not one missing?"

"Lady Sansa slipped away, I couldn't find her in time and I thought it best to get the others out lest risk us all being discovered," Jory explained.

"Stupid Sansa," Arya muttered and Bran elbowed her in the ribs.

"She is still at the Capitol then?" Lord Flint said with raised brows.

"Unfortunately," Jory confirmed and he sighed heavily.

"You can send word to Lord Stark from here and stay as our guests until he sends his orders to you – likely he will send a guard to fetch you," he said.

"Thank you for your hospitality," Jory said.

"You're most welcome," Lord Flint smiled slightly, "we have long been loyal banners to Winterfell."

* * *

><p><em>King's Landing<em>

* * *

><p>Sansa stared blankly into the mirror as the ladies maid twisted and pulled her hair back and pinned it. It was beyond ridiculous that she had to go out on this stupid procession and ride at Joffrey's side and smile and wave and pretend she was happy to be there. To pretend that she was <em>lucky<em> to be there. If she had her way she would ride through those streets and right out the gate and she wouldn't look back until she saw Winterfell looming up on the horizon. That would be impossible though. She had had her chance to get away and she had turned her back on it. No doubt Bran and Arya were back now and safe in the arms of their mother. She blinked then as she felt her eyes sting. No tears today. She wouldn't give Joffrey the satisfaction. The maid told her she was finished then, her hands moving from her hair and Sansa took a deep breath before rising up from the vanity.

She barely noticed the woman that had fixed her hair as she made her way from her chambers, the guards on either side of her door falling into step a pace behind her as she walked through the hallways and down steps to the vast entrance hall where she saw _him _waiting. Joffrey's face twisted into a smile that didn't reach is eyes. It never reached his eyes. Had it ever? She had deluded herself into thinking that he would love and protect her and it was only now when it was too late that she saw him for what he truly was. A monster.

"My Lady," he greeted, a slight sneer to his tone that she didn't miss but others would.

"Your Grace," she curtseyed, forcing herself to meet his eyes, sick of being so afraid of him.

"Are you ready?" he asked.

"Of course your Grace," she replied, placing her hand on his arm that he had held out to her.

"It's a great honour for you to be riding at my side," he told her as they made their way outside.

"Of course your Grace," she repeated.

"Especially when most of the people only see you as the daughter of a traitor," he said nastily.

She said nothing then, fighting the urge to clench her hand around his arm and pinch her nails into him until he bled. Thankfully they reached the horses then and the Hound helped her up onto her own. He was one of the few of Joffrey's guards she could tolerate, he had never made a move to strike her. Not like Ser Meryn and the others. She saw the Queen and Ser Jaime saddled up side by side but she could see no sign of Lord Tyrion which made her feel slightly uncomfortable. He seemed to be the only one that could wield some control over Joffrey, he had stopped him from harming her on several occasions and had come to her to tell her that Jeyne was safe and secure. She hoped he was telling the truth, she hadn't seen Jeyne since that day her life was almost ended and she missed her, frequently praying to the Gods that her friend was alright.

The order was shouted out to lead off then and Sansa dug her horse into her heels to obediently trot along at Joffrey's side. There had been no mention recently of their wedding and she was glad of it. Perhaps if it was put off for long enough she would be able to find some way out of here and back home where she belong. _Stupid Sansa. _That's what Arya had always muttered under her breath and as the procession made its way under the gate and into the bustling street she could not disagree with her. The people were noisy as she glanced around and she couldn't help but notice that many of them were shouting unfavourable things. She hoped Joffrey couldn't hear them, not that she was concerned for his feelings – merely worried about what his reaction would be. She glanced at him then and saw the tinge of pink in his cheeks that told her that he could hear every jeering word.

"This is your fault," he hissed at her and she stared at him.

"My fault?" she asked him incredulously before she could stop herself.

"Yes your fault," he snarled, "they think me weak and foolish for continuing my betrothal to such a traitorous whore!"

"Maybe you should send me home then and you won't have to put up with it!" she snapped back at him.

"You will pay for that," he said dangerously, "I would have thought you'd have learned to keep your mouth shut by now, you really are a stupid bitch"

"Why don't you make me pay for it right now? Show your people what you're really like," she dared to say and he flushed angrily.

"How dare you speak to me like that?! Shut your mouth!" he almost shouted at her.

"Why don't you make me," she challenged him.

At her words he reached out and grabbed hold of her wrist before she had a chance to snatch it away from him. He twisted it painfully hard then and she couldn't help but cry out, the angry shouts coming from the crowd seemingly intensifying as she did so. A call of warning went up then and Joffrey let go of her wrist in time for them to both look up and see the mob were growing more than restless. They were getting violent. One of the guards was struck down then and Sansa tried to wheel her horse around as shouts went up to retreat back to the keep. Hands were snatching at her then and she tried to kick them away, in her desperation turning to look for Joffrey but seeing that his saddle was empty. She heard the screams of the Queen then, demanding men find her son as the hands became more insistent, dragging her down from her horse. It was her own screams leaving her then as the men dragged her down into the chaos.

It was all happening so quickly she could barely comprehend what was happening as she was half dragged into an alleyway. Two men held her and another four advanced on her as the riot in the main street continued. She was so frightened that she could almost hear her own heart thudding over the shouts and screams of the mob. The men were advancing closer now and before she knew it she was being dragged down to the floor, hands tearing at her, pinning her down as she struggled against them. She screamed over and over and begged them not to as her arms were forced behind her head, one of the men kneeling down and going to unlace himself. Seeing him uncovered made her feel sick and she struggled even harder against her captors as he pushed up her skirts, promising to fuck her good. He forced her legs apart then and pressed himself between them and she braced herself for the pain, wondering if they would kill her afterwards or let her go.

The pain never came for her though it came for him and she screamed out as the tip of a sword suddenly protruded from his chest. His blood dripped down onto her and she scrambled back from him as the men who had been holding her down released her. She could hear their pounding footsteps retreating down the alleyway as she looked up into the face of her saviour, furiously tugging down her skirts with shaking hands.

"Come on," the Hound said gruffly, bending down to scoop her into his arms, "I'm getting you out of here"

She didn't have the strength nor the will to argue with him, finding herself leaning into him as he carried her away from the crowds. It was only he had been walking a while that she realised that they were heading in the wrong direction, the keep was back up the hill and yet they were heading downhill.

"What are you doing?! The keep is the other way!" she exclaimed.

"I'm not taking you to the keep," he said calmly.

"But you have to! If you don't then Joffrey will kill me!" she said in a panicked voice.

"He won't be killing anyone," he said certainly.

"What do you mean?" she asked him fearfully.

"I mean he's dead," he said gruffly and her eyes widened.

"Where are you taking me?" she whispered.

"Home," he said with finality.

"I can't go! Not without Lady!" she protested.

"Lady?" he repeated.

"My direwolf, please! I can't go without her!" she pleaded.

"Fuck's sake," he muttered, "if I spring your damn wolf will you shut up and stop complaining?"

"Yes," she promised, her eyes wide as she looked up at him.

"Fine," he growled, "let's find you someplace to hide first and I'll go and get the bloody thing."

* * *

><p>Jaime steeled himself before he pushed open the door. This would not go well.<p>

"Well?!" Cersei demanded, turning from her pacing, her face completely blanched.

"They found him," he told her and she stopped dead.

"Well where is he?!" she asked him desperately, her eyes filling with tears.

"I'm sorry," he said seriously.

"No," she whispered, shaking her head, "why are you sorry Jaime?! Why are you sorry?! You tell me now what you're sorry about!" she screamed at him, her knees buckling as he came forwards to clamp her into his arms, her fists beating at his chest but he held tight to her as she screamed and sobbed against him.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, pressing kisses to her hair, "I'm sorry Cersei … he's gone …"

* * *

><p><em>Highgarden<em>

* * *

><p>They were still in there. <em>Negotiating. <em>It didn't seem to occur to anyone that she didn't want to get married again, especially not to a little abomination like Joffrey. They could deny the rumours at the Capitol as much as they liked but she knew they were true and she would not marry such a man, much less have him in her bed. She couldn't anyway … not now. She bit her lip and turned from the closed door behind which her father and grandmother were speaking with Lord Baelish. He had come the day before and he made Margaery's skin crawl. He promised he could make her a Queen again and she had thanked him nicely enough, painting on her best smile until he left her alone and she could finally cry. They wouldn't want her as Queen if they knew. Her only hope was Loras and she prayed to the Gods that he would save her as she knocked softly on his door. He answered after a moment, stepping aside to let her in and she walked across the fire as he closed the door, her heart pounding so hard she thought it would burst from her chest.

"I need your help," she said lowly.

"With what?" he asked her with a frown.

"I can't marry that boy," she said and he sighed heavily.

"You don't have much choice in the matter … and neither do I," he said sympathetically.

"I know you can't change their minds," she said.

"Well what do you want then?" he asked, his frown deepening as he walked towards her.

"I need you to get me away from here, away from them," she whispered.

"Margaery …" he began, shaking his head.

"Please … you loved him didn't you? You loved Renly?" she asked him desperately.

"I did," he confessed in a pained voice and she saw the agony in his features.

"Then you need to help me save his child," she said and he stared at her.

"His …" he trailed off, his eyes flickering down to her stomach that betrayed no change yet.

"They will force it out of me if they found out," she hissed desperately, "please Loras you have to help me – you're our only hope!"

"I'll help you," he promised, folding her into his arms, "I'll get you away … you'll have to go far out of their reach"

"Where?" she whispered against him as she clung to him.

"There's only one place," he replied, holding her closer, "I'm sending you to the North."

* * *

><p><em>Winterfell <em>

* * *

><p>Theon bit down on his lip as he concentrated on carving into the bark of the tree. This clearing in the trees behind the Godswood had become his and Adele's place and he was wiling away the time waiting for her by carving their names into the wood. He heard her footsteps behind him then and he smiled to himself as he moved his dagger to carve the final letter of her name.<p>

"What are you doing?" her sweet voice asked and he could feel her right behind him.

"I was bored waiting for you," he said as he finished it off.

"Poor tree," she smiled at him as he turned to face her.

"That will be there for hundreds of years," he told her, "people will see it and make up stories about us long after we are gone"

"Favourable stories I hope," she teased him, her arms snaking up around his neck.

"The one thing they will know beyond any doubt is that Theon loved Adele," he said softly.

"Loved?" she raised a brow.

"I tried fighting it but I can't help it Adele … I'm in love with you," he said and her eyes widened.

"Theon …" she said softly but he kissed her before she could say anymore, he didn't want to know if she didn't feel the same.

He lowered her to the ground as they kissed, her legs coming around his waist as he pressed his body to hers, wanting her so badly as he ran his hand up her bare thigh. She shuddered with desire beneath him then and his body screamed at him to take her completely, to fulfil that need that has risen up in him from the very moment he had set eyes on her. It was more than just lust now though, now that he had spent so much time with her and shared so much with her. Shared things about his life that he had never shared with anyone before, had never wanted to share with anyone before. Adele was just so easy to be with, so right to be with and he had fallen without even meaning to and when he looked up from the depths he could no longer see the light at the top. He had been sucked down into the depths of love and as he deepened their kiss he knew that he could not regret it, even for a moment.

"I want you Adele," he breathed against her lips, "I have to have you"

"Theon no," she almost moaned, "you know I can't give myself to you …"

"But I love you," he insisted.

"And I love you," she returned and he stared at her in shock, "but that doesn't change anything"

"It changes everything," he whispered.

"It doesn't change this," she said gently, "I thought you knew that?"

"I just want you so badly," he confessed.

"I know …" she soothed, "and I want you but we just _can't _Theon, I can't give myself to a man that isn't my husband"

"I know," he sighed in defeat.

"Can't we just carry on as we are?" she asked, "I thought we were happy as we are?"

"We are," he said, "we are Adele I'm sorry"

"You're forgiven," she smiled, "now enough talk … I want you to kiss me again."

* * *

><p>Robb twisted his hands together as he paced nervously outside his father's study. He had promised Dany over a week ago that he would talk to his father and in between their stolen kisses in darkened hallways he had tried to find the right words in his mind. He still wasn't certain he had them but he was going to go in there and try. No. He was going to go in there and succeed, he would do whatever it took to have her as his wife – even if it meant giving up his claim to Winterfell. He swallowed hard and knocked at the door, hearing his father's weary voice telling him to come in. The timing wasn't great but he couldn't stand not having her any longer. He wanted to stake his claim to show everyone that she would be his and no one else's.<p>

"Robb," his father managed a small smile for him as he let himself in.

"I need to speak with you," Robb said and Ned set his quill down and frowned slightly at his son.

"What's wrong?" he asked, Robb was paler than usual and he could almost feel his nervousness.

"I know it would have been impossible when Robert was King … but since he is dead and we are declared for no one …" Robb started.

"Robb what is this about?" Ned asked him gently.

"You might not approve but …" he struggled with the words, "but I would give anything for her … even my claim to Winterfell if that's what it took"

"Robb what are you talking about?" Ned asked him more sharply.

"I love her father … I want her as my wife," Robb finally said and his father sighed heavily.

"Dany," he said knowingly after a moment.

"How did you know?" Robb asked him with a slight frown.

"You've been in love with that girl since the start … likely I knew before you did," Ned smiled.

"But …" Robb started.

"You are not giving up any claim to Winterfell, you're my son and the seat is yours once I am dead … and I think you will have a strong Lady at your side," he said.

"Does that mean yes?" Robb asked him, his eyes wide and disbelieving.

"If Dany is agreeable … it's best you ask her first before you get ahead of yourself," Ned said amusedly.

"Gods …" he whispered.

"And you might want to talk to your mother … but she will doubtless be thrilled," Ned told him.

"Yes," Robb agreed in a slightly dazed manned, "Gods … truly?"

"Truly Robb," he actually chuckled now, "you are my son and I love you, the one thing I want above all else is for my children to be happy and I know you would be miserable without her"

Robb nodded then and his father stood up from behind his desk and strode round to grab him in a tight embrace for a moment. Proud didn't seem like a strong enough word for him to utter to Robb but it was the only one he had.

"I'm proud of you," he murmured and Robb's hands clenched slightly in his doublet.

"Thank you," Robb said lowly and he smiled, pulling away from him.

"Go on," he nodded to the door, "I know you must be itching to find her"

"Thank you," Robb repeated, making his way to the door at once leaving his father chuckling lightly behind him.

He ran into his mother in the entrance hall and she managed a smile for him which he was glad to see. She had been miserable lately what with them still having no news from Bran and the girls. Robb was sure they were alright though, he felt connected to his siblings through the wolves and Grey Wind knew that his brothers and sisters were alright. Robb just knew that if the wolves were fine then his siblings were fine because he knew in his heart that Grey Wind would die to protect him and he was certain that the other wolves would do the same for their masters.

"You look happy," his mother said knowingly.

"I went to see father," he said.

"Has he had any word?" she asked, her eyes widening hopefully and he felt suddenly guilty.

"No," he said, "I'm sorry mother"

"It's fine," she forced a smile, "what did you see him about that's made you so happy?"

"I'm to be married," he said, "if she agrees which I'm hopeful she will"

"To whom?" she asked him, her smile genuine this time – part of her thinking she knew the answer.

"Dany," he grinned.

"I thought as much," she said, her smile widening.

"I love her mother," he said.

"I know you do," she replied, patting his cheek in an affectionate manner.

"Don't say anything yet … I've yet to ask her," he cautioned.

"I am certain she will say yes," his mother smiled and he felt reassured beyond belief.

"Have you seen her anywhere?" he asked then.

"I saw her on my way in, she was on her way to the library, that girl gets through books so quickly – I'm surprised she has not read her way through it yet," she said.

"Thank you," he smiled.

The library seemed like an appropriate place to ask her since it was where they had first confessed their feelings and shared their first kiss. The first of many. His smile widened then as he imagined her reaction. She had been so convinced that they were living a fantasy and that his father would more than likely disagree. Robb had been more optimistic but even he had imagined he would have had more of a fight on his hands when it came down to it. Knowing his mother and father were behind him made his heart swell though and he turned his smile on his mother and embraced her gently. She held him back gladly, so thrilled that her son could have the happy life he deserved, the life she had always longed for him to have. She had no doubt in her mind that Dany would make him happy for the rest of his days, she could not have asked for a better good-daughter.

"Forgive me my Lord, Lady Stark!" a panicked voice rang out then and they broke apart.

"What is it?" Robb asked with a frown.

"There is a fire my Lord," he told him and Robb's eyes widened.

"Where?" his mother asked from his side, panic in her own eyes.

"The library," the guard told them and Robb's heart sank like a stone.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Hope you all liked my little surprise regarding Joffrey ;)

More importantly though, HE SAID YES! *ahem*

Thoughts would be awesome!

:)


	20. The Dragons Awakening

**A/N: **Hey guys! I won't keep you, I'm sure you want to get reading. Just a quick note that the next two chapters are set all in Winterfell but it's over the course of one night so we won't be missing anything any where else!

**ImptheTarg:** Glad you're happy about that, most people were to be honest! No, the fire is nothing to do with Melisandre, Joffrey sent the arsonist, he and Cersei discussed it a few chapters back :)

Right, on with the chapter! Hope you enjoy!

:)

* * *

><p><strong>The Dragons Awakening<strong>

* * *

><p><em>Winterfell<em>

* * *

><p>Robb was sprinting out the door before Catelyn had even half opened her mouth to call him back. She hurriedly told the guard to fetch Ned before she went tearing after him, terrified that her son was about to do something stupid that could lead to him getting killed. The sight of the flames swirling around the library almost made her stop dead on the steps but she pushed on, screaming out for her son. The guards were milling around, desperately filling buckets of water and passing them down the line. The townsfolk were gathered in the courtyard, many trying to help, others just transfixed by the blaze. She tried not to think of Dany in there as she pushed through people, trying desperately to catch a glimpse of Robb, on the verge of tears now as she called out for him again. As a mother picked her crying child up and moved them away she caught sight of him desperately pushing against the guards who were restraining him from entering the library. She felt immense relief and gratitude as she hurried towards him, Jon coming from the other direction and grabbing onto Robb as she reached him.<p>

"Robb what are you doing?! Stop it!" Jon shook him, pulling him away from the guards who returned to help put out the blaze.

"She's in there Jon! She's in there do you expect me to stand out here and watch her burn?!" Robb roared at him and Jon let go of him in sheer shock.

"Who's in there?" he asked him, already knowing what his answer would be.

"Dany," Robb choked out, devastation taking over his anger now.

Jon looked from him to the tower then and before Catelyn could grab his wrist he had darted away and passed the guards.

"Jon!" she screamed, grabbing hold of Robb as he made to follow him.

"Let me go mother!" he demanded, wrenching his arm from her grasp.

"No!" she snatched him back, "Don't you even dare! You are my son Robb, I won't lose you!"

"Cat," Ned's voice sounded behind her then, slightly out of breath.

"Talk sense to him Ned," she said, emotion rising up in her as Robb looked between her and the burning library.

"She's in there father!" Robb implored him.

"You going in after her will do no good," Ned said, stepping forward and grasping his shoulders tightly, "if you really want to help you can help extinguish the flames"

"But …" Robb started.

"No buts Robb! You either help the guards or I will lock you inside do you understand me?!" he shook him slightly.

"I understand," Robb finally said, meeting his father's eyes.

"Good," Ned said, sounding relieved, "now go and make yourself useful and don't even think of putting yourself in any danger"

"I won't," Robb managed and Ned released him, watching him hurrying to help the guards and the men who were filling bucket after bucket with water.

"Ned," Catelyn whispered then, slipping her hand into his, "Ned … Jon has gone in there."

* * *

><p>Dany coughed heavily as more smoke began making its way under the door. She hadn't noticed at first as she had sat poring over a book about the time of dragons, reading the descriptions of the eggs that were so like her own. In the end she had smelled the smoke and got herself up and to the door, only the handle was burning hot under her touch and she had snatched it away, knowing that there were flames on the other side. She had beat her fists against the door then and screamed for help but she just knew that it was no good, even if anyone could hear her they wouldn't get passed the fire. She thought of Robb then as she backed towards the window, covering her mouth with the sleeve of her dress as she choked again. He had been going to finally speak to his father, promising her that this time he would actually knock on the door. She would never get to hear the answer now and tears stung her eyes as she thought of never seeing him again. Never holding him in her arms and inhaling that wonderful scent of his nor feeling the touch of his lips against hers, tasting him and revelling in every part of him. Gods she wished they had given in to the longing, that she could die knowing he had possessed her completely.<p>

The tears fell faster down her cheeks then as she slid down the wall and onto the floor, seeing the lick of the flames under the gap in the door. She was going to die. Gods she was going to burn alive. She prayed then that the smoke would choke her before the flames could reach her skin. She prayed and prayed that she wouldn't feel the blistering heat and the excruciating agony. Wildly she thought of what had happened to Lord Stark's father and it made her curse her own. How could he have done such a thing? It was only now when she was facing a similar fate that she truly understood how Brandon Stark could have strangled himself in his desperation to save his father. If it were Robb here now she would face death to reach him. She wondered if he would do the same, if he was out there now screaming for her, trying to fight passed flames to get to her. He couldn't succeed. He would burn before he got anywhere near her and she prayed to the Gods that they would stop him, that they would hold him back and forbid him. Sobs were taking over her now and she buried her head in her hands, rocking slightly as she prayed with every fibre of her being.

Something inside her refused then. Something inside her screamed at her to stop her crying and pick herself up. She had to fight for this. She had to try everything to get out of this and back to Robb because she couldn't leave him without her. Not without a fight. If those flames wanted her they would have to come and find her because she would not willingly sit and let them come for her. She stood up then, a new determination in her as she glanced wildly about the room. Paper. Damned paper everywhere. But if the fire was burning through paper and wood it would take it longer to get to her. She moved then between the rows of shelves and pushed with all her might against one of the great cases. It took a huge amount of effort but eventually she felt it start to tilt and she kept on pushing with everything she had until it teetered over, crashing into the one it was leaning against and sending that tumbling through the next row and the next. Maester Luwin would be devastated she thought irrationally then as the moved to the one still standing next to it and did the same thing. Again they finally tumbled down with an almighty crash and she continued on down the line until she had pushed all of them down.

Now there was a blockade of fallen shelves filled with countless books and heavy tomes between the door and her. Perhaps that would buy her some time. Her eyes caught her eggs then that were sat there on one of the desks. Cursing herself she began to clamber over the fallen shelves to reach them, pulling the box down and almost dropping it. She cursed loudly then and pulled the eggs out of the box, cradling them as best she could with one arm as she used the other to help her clamber towards the wall opposite the door. The wall with the window. The window. Gods why had she not thought that before? She gently placed the eggs down onto the floor then and went to try and swing the window open. It wouldn't budge though and she screamed out in sheer frustration, beating her fists against the glass in anger before she looked about the room for something to break it with. There were two old swords mounted above the fireplace, one of which she believed had belonged to Brandon Stark. She tugged on the hilt of one of them then and prayed that Lord Stark wouldn't be angry with her as it came free.

It was far too heavy for her, especially now she had weakened herself by pushing all those shelves over but she dragged it towards the window before a coughing fit took over her. She leaned against the sill then, pressing her sweaty forehead against the cool stone as she tried to get her breathing back under control. When she found the strength to lift her head again she caught her reflection in the mirror and told herself in no uncertain terms that she had to live. She had to fight. She had to get out and back to Robb because she loved him and he loved her and she wouldn't let him suffer her death. She gripped the sword tightly in both hands then and backed slightly from the window before raising it above her head, closing her eyes and bringing it swinging into the window. The shattering sound had her opening her eyes then and she dropped the sword, feeling the strangest desire to laugh. She approached the window, pulling out some of the larger, sharper shards of glass and dropping them to the floor.

It felt so good to stick her head out into the cool night, hearing the urgent shouts of the men and the cries of women and children and she sucked in the clean air gratefully. When she felt she had the strength she called out for help, forcing herself to keep screaming it over and over even though her throat was raw and desperate for her to stop. One of the guards looked up then and in the next second she heard him shouting out to others and pointing up at her. She saw Robb then, even from this height and in the darkness she could see him and she could see the relief in his eyes when he saw her there in the window. He was shouting something up at her but she couldn't hear him over the noise of everything else so she just contented herself with clambering up onto the windowsill and keeping her head firmly out of the window. Some of the guards were bringing out grappling hooks now and she prayed to the Gods that they would swing them up onto the neighbouring roofs before the flames charred through the door. They were licking under the door now and she knew it wouldn't be long before they touched something in the room that would make the fire take hold in there. She closed her eyes then and prayed again, even harder than before.

* * *

><p>Getting up the steps had been easy for Jon, the fire seemed to have started up in the actual library and he prayed to the Gods that Dany had had the sense to get to the window and get herself onto the roof. There was a possibility she was hurt and unable to though and the thought of her laying there unknowing had spurned Jon up passed the guards who were pounding up and down the steps with bucket after bucket. Several of them had called out to caution him, telling him to go back down and that they would soon have it under control. He ignored them though, desperate to find Dany. When he came face to face with the wall of flames though he faltered, wanting nothing more than to run back down the steps and let Lady Stark scold him over and over before she pulled him into her motherly embrace. Then he remembered the look on Robb's face and he imagined the sheer pain his brother would be in if Dany didn't come out alive. He steeled himself then, pulling up the hood of his cloak and taking a deep breath before he darted through the flames, ramming his shoulder against the smouldering door of the library.<p>

It crumbled away far to easily and he staggered slightly, hearing a scream as he lost his balance, his hand snatching for something to grab hold of but only finding flames. He could feel them hot on his skin and he expected to feel it burning, to feel agony take him over but he only felt heat. No pain reached him and he couldn't understand why as he finally managed to grip hold of the doorframe and steady himself. Now wasn't the time to dwell on that though as he stepped into the smoke filled room.

"Jon?!" Dany gasped out in disbelief from where she was seated on the windowsill.

"Dany are you alright?" he asked her, clambering over the shelves that he imagined she had pushed over to create some kind of barricade.

"They're trying to throw up grappling hooks … I'm alright Jon, what were you thinking?!" she demanded of him, sliding down from the sill as he staggered towards her.

"I could hardly do nothing," he said.

"You fool," she whispered, "how in the name of the Gods did you get through those flames without injury?"

"I think I may have burnt my hand," he said, remembering the flames that had licked around it.

She took his hand in his then and turned it over gently so she could inspect his palm. There was not a mark on him and they both stared. Jon had expected blisters or some redness at least. Rickon had burnt his hand on a hot plate once and he had screamed and screamed. The blisters had lasted days and he had to be kept bandaged up so he didn't aggravate them. That had only been a hot plate and only for a second. Jon's hand had been in the flames for longer than that and the fire was bound to be a thousand times hotter. So why wasn't he burnt? He looked up and met Dany's eyes then and she frowned at him.

"Was it your other hand?" she asked and he shook his head.

"No," he whispered, "it was this one"

"Well it looks like you didn't burn it after all," she said, a slight shake in her voice.

"No," he agreed.

Before he could think any more on it though Dany's eyes were going for the door and he could see that the fire had already pushed into the room, already eating its way through the shelves that Dany had thrown down. He could hear the guards on the other side trying desperately to fight it and he could hear the shouts from outside. Dany moved back to the window then to see if they were making any progress. It looked as though one of the hooks had been secured and she saw the guards testing their weight on it. One began to climb after another moment and she tried to calm her pounding heart. He would still have to manage to hook a rope through the window of the library for them to be able to get down and she tried not to think about how difficult that would be, instead taking a few deep breaths of fresh air before turning back to Jon, alarmed to see him clambering back towards the flames.

"Jon what are you doing?!" she screamed at him as he plunged his arm into the fire; "Jon stop it!" she cried out and he pulled his arm back.

He turned to look at her then, peeling away the burned leather of his doublet and his singed shirt to show her that there was no mark on him. She stared at him then, her mind racing with all the reasons she could think of that fire wouldn't touch him but she could only think of one and it made her head hurt so much she thought it would explode. It was impossible. There would be another explanation and she would think herself foolish for even considering that Jon could be her kin. It was wishful thinking. There was only her left and it was stupid to think that there was anyone else no matter how desperate she was to believe it. They locked eyes and she swallowed hard. Jon was a Stark. Unmistakably so and she was a fool for questioning it.

"How?" he asked her quietly.

"I don't know," she replied in a whisper.

"I can get you out," he said then.

"No Jon, just wait for the rope to be thrown up," she said, shaking her head.

"Who knows how long that will take, the flames are spreading fast!" he implored her.

"But …" she started.

"Dany the fire can't touch me! Just trust me, I can get you out of here!" he promised.

"Alright," she whispered, stepping up onto the fallen shelves before she remembered something and darted back.

"Dany! What are you doing?!" Jon demanded.

"My eggs," she said breathlessly, gathering them up, "I can't leave them here!"

If he thought her foolish for wanting to save stones then he said nothing about it, merely watching her as she clambered her way towards him, holding his hand out for her to take when she reached him. He steadied her as close to the flames as he dared then and pulled off his cloak. It was thick and he prayed it would be enough to keep her from the flames as he wrapped it around her.

"Ready?" he asked her and she tightened her grip on her eggs.

"Ready," she nodded.

"We'll have to be quick," he said and she nodded again.

Jon wound his arm about her then and pressed her as close to him as he could before pulling her towards the flames. Gods it was hot, he could feel his skin sweltering and the ends of his hair singeing but it was not burning him. He moved as quickly as he could, pulling Dany with him, relieved that he could not hear any cries of pain leaving her. He could see the other side then but he could no longer see any of the guards. Had they given up trying to fight the flames?

Dany could see the other side too and she breathed out in relief, her throat feeling the heat when she took in another breath. The heat was sweltering, sweat dripping from her forehead and drenching her palms. Jon tugged her firmly through the last of the fire then and her grip on her eggs loosened, one of them falling from her slick hands. She cried out then as the other two followed it into the flames, reaching out to try and grab them before she had thought about what she was doing. Jon called out to caution her, seeing her hands reaching into the fire, expecting her to recoil and scream out in pain but she didn't. Too bewildered to try and work anything out he grabbed her around the waist and dragged her out of the flames. She coughed and spluttered as he pulled her a short way down the steps, the fire still raging above them. They moved their eyes from the flames to one another then and saw the relief mirrored in one another's expressions.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"I don't think you needed my help after all," he said weakly, pulling her hands up to examine them, seeing no mark on them.

"It didn't touch me either," she said wonderingly.

"No," he said, his heart thumping irrationally hard.

"I can't believe I dropped the eggs," she scolded herself.

"I'm sorry Dany," he said meaningfully.

"They were all I had of my brother," she said sadly.

"Perhaps they will be salvaged when the flames are put out?" he suggested hopefully.

"Perhaps," she agreed but he could tell by her voice that she wasn't convinced.

"Come on, let's get out of here before Robb's heart gives out," he said and she nodded, making to follow him down the steps.

A noise behind her made her steps falter then as she turned back, Jon looking at her curiously as she strained her ears for it. She was certain she had heard something. A sort of faint chirruping unlike anything she had ever heard before. Perhaps she had imagined it. She couldn't hear it anymore and she shook her head and made to move further down the steps. As she moved she heard it again and she snapped her head back. This time it had been louder and she was certain that she hadn't imagined it.

"Did you hear that?" she asked Jon.

"Hear what?" he asked her with a frown.

"_That_," she said as it sounded again and he moved back up a few steps despite himself.

"Yes," he said, "wait there …"

She followed him despite him telling her to stay where she was but he hadn't got far and she almost collided with him as she hurried to catch him up. The reason for his sudden halt became clear as she peered around him, her eyes widening to such an extent that she thought they might just fall out of her head. Surely she was seeing things?

"By the Gods," Jon breathed then.

"How is this possible?" she whispered and he shook his head slowly.

"I have no idea," he whispered back as one of the little creatures staggered towards them.

Jon bent forward instinctively as it threatened to topple down the steps and Dany stared at him as it clambered its way up his arm and perched happily on his shoulder. Dragons. _Dragons. _Her head spun. Three of them, hatched from her eggs. By the Gods how was it even possible? They were stones, _stones._ But then they had always felt warm under her touch, a warmth that no one else could feel but that she had sworn was there. Was it connected somehow? The flames not touching her and now three dragons emerging from the fire. She looked at Jon again then as the other two dragons came tentatively closer, Jon holding out a hand so another of them could clamber up onto his other shoulder. She had no idea how he could be so calm about this but she mentally shook herself and stepped forward, tentatively holding out one of her own hands to the last dragon. It chirruped at her before clambering up her arm, its little talons pinching slightly as it made its way up to her shoulder where it settled quite happily.

* * *

><p>They had filled all the buckets and containers they had and were preparing to haul them all up to the top in a bid to extinguish the flames. Throwing individual loads of water one at a time had barely helped and this was a new tactic that they were all praying would work. Robb was exhausted with the effort of running to and from the well, sometimes hauling up water, sometimes just taking a container from someone who had already filled some. He couldn't stop though. He wouldn't stop until he had Dany back in his arms. She had disappeared from the window and that had terrified him but still he made his body move to collect more and more water.<p>

A cry of surprise went up then and he could hear his mother burst into tears and somehow he just knew she was back. He dropped the bucket he had been carrying and tore around the corner. The presence of three baby dragons should probably have made him falter, especially as one was draped around the neck of the woman he loved, but he barely saw them as he ran right up to her and pulled her into his arms. The creature around her neck hissed slightly but he ignored it, she could explain it all to him later but right now he couldn't care less as he bent his head and pressed his lips firmly to hers. He didn't care that the whole of Winterfell could see them, he didn't care about anyone but her in that moment. When he pulled back he raked his eyes over her, looking for any sign of injury.

"Are you hurt?" he asked her, seeing no sign that she was.

"No … no I'm not hurt at all, the fire … it couldn't touch me Robb," she said shakily.

"Thank the Gods for you," he almost moaned out in relief, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

He glanced to Jon then and saw him being simultaneously scolded and embraced tightly by his mother. He would thank him when he had the chance. Part of him still couldn't believe that his brother had rushed into a burning building and come out alive. There didn't look to be a mark on him either and Robb closed his eyes and silently thanked the Gods for the woman in his arms and his brother.

Ned stepped forward then, suggesting gently that perhaps they go inside. The people were staring and he couldn't blame them, they had just witnessed two people walk unscathed from a blazing building with three dragons. Dragons. His head swam. There hadn't been dragons for hundreds of years and now there were three of them. Here. At Winterfell. Gods this was all too much for him to take in but he needed to sort himself out. He watched Robb leading Dany back towards the keep before he turned his eyes back to Jon who Catelyn had finally released from his clutches. Not a mark on him. Thank the Gods. He would have questions though and Ned would have to give him answers. Dread filled him as he wondered how Jon would take it. The news would change his world but Ned knew he could hide it no longer. It was time for Jon to know the truth. The whole truth.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **You may have guessed that Jon finds out the truth next chapter ;) hope you enjoyed this one, please let me know!

:)


	21. Reactions

**A/N: **Just want to say a massive thank you to the overwhelming response to the last chapter! I was honestly giddy!

**Becka:** Thank you to both you and your friend, so glad you enjoy my stories. This one is my priority at the moment but I do have others up my sleeve which I'm hoping to start working on soon :)

**Guest:** I'm sorry, I appreciate your comments about Targaryen's not technically being "fireproof" in the books but as you said they changed that in the show and this is filed under the show section. I know I bring in elements from the book (Aegon for instance) but for me them being "fireproof" was necessary for this fic and Jon's heritage being revealed. Rest assured they aren't just going to go wandering around sticking their hands into flames just because they can. Also, it is AU so why not have them resistant to fire? Hope this doesn't sound like I'm mad at you, I appreciate your comment but I just feel I have to defend my decision a little bit. I do hope it doesn't put you off the story as it really is a minor thing in the grand scheme of things! :)

Right 'ho! On with the reactions!

:)

* * *

><p><strong>Reactions<strong>

* * *

><p><em>Winterfell<em>

* * *

><p>"Wine, I think," Catelyn said shakily, moving to pour several glasses out, locking eyes with Ned for a moment and knowing this was it.<p>

"Thank you mother," Robb said, gratefully taking two glasses from her and handing one to Dany.

"Jon?" she said then, offering him a glass which he took.

Ned came forward and snatched up one of his own, drinking down half of it in one. She topped it up without a word and he smiled grimly at her before he turned to face those in the room with them. He had no idea how any of them would talk it. His eyes lingered on Jon for a moment then as Catelyn crossed to close the door. It would do no good to have anyone overhear this. One of the dragons chirruped then and Ned closed his eyes. _Dragons. _He still couldn't get his head around it but right now they were the least of his problems.

"Neither of you are hurt," he stated then and Jon and Dany both shook their heads.

"The flames … they were hot but … they didn't burn us," Dany said with a frown.

"It's your Targaryen blood," Ned told her and she nodded in understanding before looking to Jon.

"Then why couldn't they touch me? I'm no Targaryen," Jon said and he sighed heavily.

"Father?" it was Robb who spoke up, his brow furrowed.

"My mother?" Jon questioned then.

"No," Ned swallowed hard, "your father"

"I don't understand," Jon shook his head and Robb's frown deepened.

"What are you saying?" Robb asked and Dany took his hand reassuringly.

"I …" Ned started, almost choking on the words, "I am not your true father"

"What?" Jon whispered into the almost deafening silence.

"I am your … uncle," he said and Jon stared at him, trying to work it out in his head.

"My mother?" he asked dangerously quietly.

"Lyanna," Ned told him, feeling Catelyn move closer to him.

"My father?" Jon almost choked then and Ned somehow knew he had guessed it.

"She loved him Jon … the reason for Robert's rebellion was a false one only none of us knew it at the time," Ned tried to explain, seeing Dany's eyes widen.

"My father?" Jon repeated, his hands shaking.

"Rhaegar Targaryen," Ned confessed and Dany gasped, Jon turning away and Robb closing his eyes in disbelief.

Ned didn't know what to say then and he was grateful to Catelyn when she slipped her hand into his and squeezed it reassuringly. He had never imagined having to tell Jon this, especially not now when there were three dragons curled up together in one of the armchairs. Dany turned her eyes on him then and he saw the almost accusing look in them and he wanted to hide from her violet gaze.

"My brother died for nothing," she whispered.

"I didn't know Dany," he said, shaking his head, "I didn't know until I went to Dorne and found Lyanna with Jon … I'm sorry"

"The war was for nothing," she said, shaking her own head, "his children …" she faltered, feeling sick as she remembered the tale of Elia and her children.

"Not quite nothing," Robb spoke up, "don't forget my grandfather and uncle"

"I haven't," she shook her head, "but Rhaegar … he didn't do that"

"He took my sister, what was I supposed to think?!" Ned asked desperately.

"How did she die?" Jon turned back then and Ned looked at him, seeing the anger and the betrayal in his eyes.

"On her childbed," he said, not seeing any point in lying to him again.

"I killed her," Jon stated.

"No," Ned shook his head, "no … these things just happen sometimes … it is no fault of yours"

"Jon … my mother died birthing my brother, but it was no more Edmure's fault than Lyanna's fate was yours," Catelyn said soothingly, stepping forwards to take his hand.

"You lied to me!" he burst out, snatching his hand away from her and tears stung her eyes.

"It was necessary Jon," Ned reasoned but he shook his head.

"My whole life!" he choked out.

"Jon please!" Catelyn said desperately, "Please Jon we had to lie, but we always loved you – you are like a son to me!"

"Only I'm not your son!" he burst out, "My mother is _dead _and I never even knew her! And now I find out I don't even have a father!"

"Jon you have a family," Ned tried to soothe him.

"A family of liars!" Jon shouted out, throwing his glass at the wall.

"Jon … please …" Catelyn tried again to reach out her hand but again he snatched it away.

"Don't touch me, don't even look at me! I don't want your pity!" he roared and she flinched.

Robb was on his feet then, placing himself between his mother and Jon and staring at him in utter fury. He knew Jon must be angry but he would not tolerate him speaking to his mother like that, not when she had always been nothing but kind to him. None of this was her fault. As far as he could make out none of this was anyone's fault, it had all just been born out of some tragic love story that no one had known about at the time. His father wanted to protect Jon as he had Dany, knowing that any child of Rhaegar's would be at risk with Robert on the throne. Robb could see it all so clearly, why couldn't Jon?

"Don't you dare speak to my mother like that," Robb snarled then.

"Or what? What are you going to do to stop me?" Jon challenged, shoving his chest slightly.

"Robb …" his father cautioned.

"It's all alright for you isn't it? Nothing has changed for you," Jon sneered at him.

"Of course it has!" Robb burst out, "You're my brother!"

"Not anymore I'm not!" Jon shot back.

"It doesn't have to change anything Jon!" Robb shouted at him.

"It changes everything! Are you that fucking stupid?!" Jon roared at him, shoving against him again.

"Jon …" Robb tried to grab at him to stop him but he shoved him even harder, causing him to stagger backwards slightly.

"You're as bad as them!" he pointed at Ned and Catelyn accusingly, "How can you possibly think this is alright?!"

"Of course it's not alright but that doesn't mean you have to push us away!" Robb shouted desperately.

"Jon please … just try to understand why we couldn't tell you," Ned put in.

"I'll never understand," Jon shook his head.

"Jon you're still kin …" Catelyn said and he glared at her.

"I'd rather have no kin," he said venomously and Robb finally snapped.

His fist connected with Jon's face before anyone could caution him and in the next instant Jon barrelled at him, catching him around the waist so they tumbled to the floor, their fists battering at one another as Robb attempted to roll Jon off him. Catelyn was shrieking at them to stop and Dany was pleading over and over as Ned attempted to drag Jon off Robb. Jon strained against him though and threw another punch at the man beneath him that caught him hard in the jaw. Robb spat blood then and Catelyn couldn't help the tears that came as Ned finally succeeded in dragging Jon up and away from him. Dany dropped down at Robb's side then, helping him to sit himself up and Catelyn's eyes moved from him to Jon who was shrugging himself out of Ned's grip. She instinctively moved to position herself between him and her son who was still down on the floor. Jon's eyes flashed then with a look that she couldn't quite place before he turned and wrenched open the door, pounding away down the hallway and ignoring her shout at him to come back.

Ned's hands came to rest on her shoulders then and she leant back into him as tears streamed down her face. "It's alright," he soothed her, rubbing his hands up and down her arms; "it will take him some time to get his head around it but he will come back Cat."

* * *

><p>Robb winched slightly as Dany pressed the damp cloth to his cut lip which was throbbing dully. His mind was racing and he could see her looking at him with something akin to pity in her eyes and he wished she would stop. He felt guilty for thinking that, she was only worried for him and this news about Jon had changed her life as well. Robb had been so caught up in thinking about how his own relationship with Jon had suddenly changed to even consider that Dany has suddenly gained a family member when she had thought she was all alone in the world. Jon was her nephew. Robb's head spun at the thought, he couldn't get his head around any of this. It was all madness. She set the cloth aside then and contemplated him with a thoughtful expression on her face.<p>

"I shouldn't have hit him," he finally said.

"No," she agreed with a slight smile.

"I know he didn't really mean it but I hated him speaking to my mother and father like that," he said.

"I know," she soothed, lacing her fingers through his.

"How does my face look?" he asked then.

"Handsome as ever," she smiled properly.

"You're a bad liar Dany," he said.

"It will heal," she said, leaning forward and pressing her lips to his forehead.

"I thought I'd lost you today," he breathed out then, squeezing her hand more tightly in his.

"Part of me thought I'd die in there," she confessed and his fist clenched.

"I won't let anything like that happen to you again," he promised her and she pulled back to look him in the eyes.

"You don't need to worry about fire finishing me off," she said with a slight quirk of the lips.

"That's not funny," he growled.

"But it is true," she said and he raised her hand to his lips and kissed it.

"I love you," he told her, meeting her eyes again.

"I love you," she returned, a smile playing about her lips.

"Will you marry me Dany?" he asked her then and her eyes widened.

"Are you free to ask me that?" she whispered.

"I am," he nodded, "and I know everything's a mess right now but I need to know that despite all this madness and uncertainty that I have you"

"Of course I'll marry you," she breathed and he grinned at her, tugging her forwards.

She kissed his lips lightly, not wanted to aggravate the cut that had only stopped bleeding a few minutes ago. His arms came about her waist then, pulling her into his lap where she curled herself against him, her head nestled in the crook of his neck and her own arms wound securely around his waist. Robb was right. Everything was mad and uncertain but just for this moment she let herself forget it all and focus on the man in her arms. The man she loved. The man she would marry and bear children for and adore forever. Her Robb. _Her _Robb. Finally.

* * *

><p>Jon drained the last of the bottle and reached out for another one, pulling out the cork clumsily and raising it to his lips, the empty one rolling to the feet of the stone woman before him. His mother. His head swam then. He was drunk but not drunk enough, his mind was still thinking things he didn't want to think about and so he continued glugging down the strong wine. His cheek still throbbed where Robb had punched him and he felt a twinge of guilt. Likely he had deserved it. He could scarce remember what he had been shouting and accusing now but he knew that it hadn't been nice. He didn't want to be nice though, he was angry. So fucking angry. He staggered up to his feet then and looked into his mother's stone eyes. Lyanna Stark had had grey eyes and was every inch a Stark, her blood had wiped out any trace of Targaryen in his features. His blood was that of the dragon though and he clenched his fist hard and took another long drink.<p>

"Why did you have to die?" he asked her then, seeing two of her as his vision started to blur.

He didn't want to be here anymore. He didn't want to be down in the musty old crypts anymore. He wanted to be back up there where he could find something to make him feel again, make him feel alive. Perhaps he would go to the brothel and have a woman. That was Theon's favourite past time and he always had a smile on his face. What did honour matter anymore now anyway now that his whole life had been turned on its head?

Jon staggered up the steps, swigging more from his bottle of wine as he did so. The lights were blazing in the keep but he didn't want to go back there, knowing Lady Stark would likely cry and crush him into her arms. If he let her do that then he would find himself forgiving her, forgiving all of them and he wasn't ready for that yet. He didn't _want _to forgive them. He swayed instead towards the gates and into the town, making his way down a narrow alleyway that was a shortcut to the main square.

"Jon?" a familiar voice sounded behind him and he turned to see Serra.

"What are you doing here?" he slurred as she came closer to him.

"Are you drunk?" she asked him.

"Not nearly enough," he said and she frowned, "you shouldn't be cutting down here alone"

"It's the easiest way home," she said, "I don't normally use it in the dark but I saw you come down"

"I'll let you go on your way then," he said and her frown deepened.

"Jon are you alright?" she asked him, her concerned eyes fixed on him.

"Has anyone ever told you that you have beautiful eyes?" he asked her and she blushed.

"No," she said, shyly avoiding his gaze and tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

"You're very beautiful," he whispered, leaning in close to her.

Serra's heart pounded as he came ever closer, their lips about to touch. She had imagined this so many times but she had never thought that it would happen. She hadn't though that Jon was actually interested in her, he was always nice to her but he had never paid her any special attention. He was paying her attention now though as his lips pressed to hers. The kiss was clumsy at first as they both tried to find the right way to move their lips together but they soon worked it out and Jon's blood pounded in his ears as he thrust his tongue into her mouth and pushed her back up against the wall. Her hands clenched in his hair then and he lost himself in the feel of her in his mouth, of him in hers. She was just what he needed to take him away from this living hell he had found himself in and he needed more from her.

His hands tugged her skirts up hurriedly and Serra knew that this was the right moment to stop him, that she couldn't let him take her and ruin her. She made no move to stop him though as he picked her up and pinned her against the wall, her hands tightening in his hair as her stomach twisted in both fear and anticipation. Jon was an honourable man, everyone knew that, if he took her maidenhead then he would likely mean to take her for his wife and the thought of getting to keep him forever thrilled her as his hands clenched tight around her thighs. What did it matter if they did this now? Surely it wouldn't matter so long as he wed her afterwards?

Jon dropped one of his hands to fumble at his laces then, furiously pulling them free and shoving his breeches down his hips slightly before moving himself closer to Serra. Before he could even think about what he was doing he was pushing himself inside her and her lips wrenched from his, a gasp of pain leaving her as he tore through her innocence. Jon let his lips move to her neck then, kissing and nuzzling at her as he rocked his hips. She felt good. She felt so fucking good and he just focused on how good she was as he thrust faster and harder, his hands gripping her thighs tightly as he moved inside her. Serra bit down on her lip and tried not to cry, it hurt, Gods it hurt but it would all be worth it because Jon wanted her and that was what mattered. The feeling of him moving so roughly inside her was uncomfortable but she supposed she would get used to it as she clung on to his shoulders. It would be over soon enough and it only hurt the first time. Next time would be different, there would be no pain and they wouldn't be doing it in some gloomy alleyway.

He groaned out against the skin of her neck then as he felt his release coming. He was so close, so close to exploding into her tight warmth and he dug his fingers even further into the flesh of her thigh as it finally came. His movements stilled then as he twitched to his end, spilling himself deep inside of her and groaning out in relief against her neck. Her own grip on his shoulders slackened then and reality started seeping back in to his drunken mind. He lifted his head and saw the un-spilled tears in her eyes and guilt gnawed at him. He pulled himself out of her then, and stepped back to lower her feet back to the ground. She appeared to be trembling slightly as she righted her skirts and he avoided her eyes as he laced himself back into his breeches. Gods he should never have done that. He had just taken an innocent girl and ruined her future prospects, all because he was angry about something and she had happened to be here. Gods he had turned into the man he had never wanted to be. He was like Theon. No. He was worse than Theon because Serra was a good, sweet girl and he had taken advantage of her kindness. He would never forgive himself for this.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, "I am so, so sorry Serra"

"It's alright," she whispered back but he heard the hitch in her throat.

"You should go home," he said gently and she nodded her head.

"Goodnight Jon," she said.

"Goodnight," he returned, watching her go with the guilt only rising higher in him as he heard her let out a sob as she rounded the corner.

He should go after her, he should go after her and drop to his knees and beg her forgiveness. Then he should ask her to marry him, to make all of this right. He should take the fury of her mother and the disappointment in the eyes of Lord and Lady Stark and then when Jory came home he should stand there and let her father maim him if he so pleased. The idea that he may have put a bastard in her terrified and disgusted him. He didn't want her to suffer that shame. He didn't want to allow any child of his to suffer that pain but still his feet didn't move. He just stood there staring at the spot he had had her pinned against not minutes before with no thought for her or her feelings. Gods he was a bastard, a true bastard, he had known Serra liked him, he wasn't as ignorant to it as everyone had assumed him to be but he had never thought of her in that way. That hadn't stopped him tonight though and he put his hands up to his face in shame. He should go after her but he wouldn't, he would take the craven's way out.

He turned then and walked back up the alleyway, ignoring the guilt in his stomach and the pain in his heart as he thought of what his family's reaction would be. What did it matter? Would it not be easier for them as well if he were no longer around? The stables were deserted when he reached them and he walked down passed the stalls until he found his horse. The man he had called father had gifted the mount to him on his fourteenth name day. That seemed forever ago now. Back when he was happy. He looked up at the keep as he led his horse out and sighed heavily. If he were any kind of man he would walk back in there and apologise for the hateful things he had said and confess what he had done to Serra. He wasn't that man though and so he mounted his horse, digging his heels in and urging the animal out of the gates and into the darkness of the North.

* * *

><p>Ned knew that Catelyn was still awake as he cradled her against his chest. Both of them were too tense to sleep, both of them just waiting for the knock on the door that would alert them of Jon's return to the keep. Theon was on the night watch tonight and he had promised to come to them at once when Jon arrived back. It was late into the night now and Ned imagined that perhaps he had drunk himself into a stupor and passed out in the stables. He wouldn't be the first man to do that and he certainly wouldn't be the last. Theon and Robb had done it on Robb's sixteenth name day and Ned had had Jon and Dany rouse them the next morning with buckets of ice cold water. The memory of the laughter and the cursing made his lips twitch up into something that vaguely resembled a smile.<p>

"What are you thinking of?" Catelyn asked him and he started, somehow she could sense what his facial expression was and it still astounded him.

"Do you remember Robb's sixteenth name day?" he asked her in return.

"Theon liberated some of your Arbor Gold if I remember right," she smiled slightly.

"They were good bottles … they deserved that wake up," he said.

"I never knew Robb knew so many foul words," she said then.

"I think he got them from Theon as well," Ned said in amusement.

"More than likely," she agreed.

"Jon was never any trouble though … I never had to worry about him for a moment," he said.

"But you did anyway," she said knowingly.

"He's like a son to me Cat," he said and she sighed heavily.

"And to me," she replied sadly and he tightened his hold on her.

"He'll forgive us … he has to," he breathed, kissing the top of her head.

"Do you think we'll find him passed out in the stables tomorrow?" she asked, lifting her head up to look into his eyes.

"I hope so Cat," he sighed, "I truly hope so."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Safe to say Jon did not take that well! Thoughts?

:)


	22. Reckless

**A/N: **Bit of a mixed reaction to the last chapter but it's all good. For those of you who didn't enjoy it hopefully you'll forgive me!

**Guest:** I know the poor thing, but I plan on making things much better for her - just give me time! :)

**ImptheTarg:** That's exactly my reasoning. This Jon isn't canon Jon so his reaction won't necessily be what we can only imagine canon Jon's would be. As for the dragons and how they hatched and everything ... really I'm just going for the fire because if I start getting into all this blood magic stuff I'm going to get confused and if I get confused my story will get confused and I don't want that! Thank you though, I will keep it up and I'm glad you think it's interesting!

**One last thing everyone**, please don't get mad at me for lack of Jon/Dragons in this chapter because after spending two chapters in Winterfell focusing on the Stark's we really do need to catch up elsewhere. There will be a section from Winterfell but it won't be loads. We'll see more of Jon and the like in the next few.

:)

* * *

><p><strong>Reckless<strong>

* * *

><p><em>King's Landing<em>

* * *

><p>Cersei stared as the slab was slid into place, covering her beloved son's body. She hated that he was down here in the crypts, next to Robert. She wanted him to have been sent back to Casterly Rock and buried in the family vaults but Tyrion had told her no. It would be inappropriate and the people were whispering about her and her children enough as it was. She would have swung for him but Jaime had grabbed her around the waist and dragged her kicking and screaming from the poisonous little imp's presence. Everything seemed to be going wrong. Joffrey was dead. Sansa Stark was missing, presumed raped and murdered and thrown into the Blackwater and now to top it all her father was on his way back to the Capitol. Cersei wasn't stupid enough to assume that just because she was grieving for her son he would let her get away with losing the Stark's and organising a failed attempt on the Targaryen girl's life. They had nothing to keep the North at bay now with Sansa gone and if they wanted to ride on King's Landing out of pure revenge then no doubt they would take it. They were weak. Even with her father's gold, men and influence they were weak. Even weaker now that Tommen was on the throne. Joffrey hadn't been much more than a boy but Tommen <em>was <em>a boy and a gentle one at that.

There were murmurs all around her as people made their way from the crypts until it was only her and Jaime left and she wished she would go away too and leave her alone with her son. It seemed since he had been taken from her no one had left her alone for a moment even though inside she was screaming at them all to leave. She wished they would just leave so she could be weak for a moment, so she could cry her heart out – just for a moment. Jaime placed his hand on her shoulder then but she made no move to register that he had even touched her.

"We should go," he murmured.

"You go, I'm staying with him," she said firmly.

"I don't mean from the crypts … I mean from here," he said.

"What are you talking about?" she asked him sharply, shrugging away from him and turning to face him.

"This place … what is the point Cersei?" he asked her.

"The point is my son is King!" she spat at him.

"For how much longer?" he asked her and she slapped him with all her strength.

"How could you say that? He is your _son!_" she hissed at him.

"I didn't mean that he would die … I just think we would be better off out of it," he said.

"And what? Go crawling back to father?!" she demanded.

"Gods no!" he shook his head, "Let's just take Tommen and Myrcella and flee … we could go anywhere … across the Narrow Sea!"

"Have you lost your mind?" she whispered.

"Think about it," he urged her, "any day now the Capitol could be overthrown and when it is we will all be lost with it"

"Don't be so ridiculous Jaime … we can't leave … we just can't," she shook her head.

"Think about it," he said again, grasping her shoulders.

She opened her mouth, unsure of what she was even going to say, closing it again and looking at Jaime in despair. He bent his head to kiss her then and she could do nothing but respond to him. Kissing him reminded her that she was alive, it made her feel something other than the utter numbness that had consumed her since Joffrey had been taken. He grabbed her closer and she deepened their kiss, losing herself for a blissful moment. The sound of footsteps broke through the bliss though and she shoved him away at once just before a guard rounded the corner.

"Forgive me your Grace, Lord Tywin Lannister has arrived and has requested your presence," he said.

Cersei merely nodded curtly at the guard and he bowed lowly before turning and walking away. She dared not even look at Jaime, she just walked away from him without a word and he sighed heavily at her retreating back before he followed on after her. He wanted to say something reassuring to her as they climbed the steps up to the keep but no words came. She had been so different and so distant lately and he knew it was because of Joffrey but she had never pushed him away before and it almost physically hurt him not being able to be near her. He steeled himself then as she paused for a moment before pushing open the door of the council chambers where their father was bound to be.

"Well you've certainly been busy," he said scathingly as soon as she walked in.

"Father," she greeted evenly.

"Imagine my surprise when I heard a fire had started at Winterfell," he said.

"Imagine," she repeated softly.

"Nothing to do with you I suppose?" he said, his eyes boring into hers.

"Joffrey wanted rid of the girl and I agreed … she was a threat," she said defiantly.

"Not as much as twenty thousand Northman are a threat," he snapped at her.

"They don't know it was deliberate," she said, shaking her head.

"Yet," he shot back and she swallowed hard.

"Do you have to do this? Her son has just died," Jaime put in then.

"And her other children will follow if she continues being so foolish!" he spat, "We are clinging on by our fingertips, we can only be thankful that Renly is dead and the Tyrell's want to ally with us"

"What?!" Cersei said sharply.

"Tommen will be betrothed to Margaery Tyrell," Tywin said.

"No," she said.

"It wasn't a question," he snapped.

"She was the Queen to a traitor!" she hissed at him.

"And now she will be Queen to Tommen, they say she is still a maid and with Renly's habits perhaps it's true … and quite frankly I care not either way," he told her, "we need men more than Tommen needs a virgin, he will marry Margaery Tyrell and that is final!"

* * *

><p><em>Bitterbridge<em>

* * *

><p>Loras scanned the area as the men began putting up their tents for the night. His father and grandmother had thankfully retreated to their own tents and he had told Margaery to be ready. It wasn't ideal, this plan, but it was the only one he had and it was his sister's only chance to get away and save the child inside her. He saw Brienne then and nodded slightly to her, she inclined her own head back before he saw her turn and walk towards the undergrowth. There were two horses saddled on the other side laden with supplies. There should be more than enough to get them to the North, all they had to do was cut cross country to the God's Eye lake and then take the King's Road all the way to Winterfell. It would be up to him then to make sure the search parties were sent the wrong way. With a bit of luck no one would notice Margaery was missing until the morning, by that time she and Brienne should have put safe distance behind them.<p>

Brienne was the only one he could trust with his sister, she had loved Renly, been reduced to tears when he had named her as part of his Kingsguard. She had loved Renly as Loras had and he had known that she would do anything to ensure his name and his legacy lived on. He could only hope the woman would be enough to shield Margaery from harm. His sister was sweet and gentle and had no clue how to swing a sword or wield a bow. He shuddered at the thought of her being in a situation where she would even need to but quickly shook his head to clear it. Now wasn't the time for morbid thoughts, now was the time for clear thinking. The wind flapped the banners above the tents then and he moved his eyes to Margaery's and began to walk towards it, saying a prayer to the seven as he approached. She pulled back the flap at once when he hissed her name and he stepped inside, seeing her dressed plainly as he had told her, her clothes warm and thick for travelling. She had furs ready to pull on as well and a cloak. With her finery gone she could just about pass as a commoner. Her hair was braided back from her face and her eyes were wide as she looked between him and the entrance to the tent nervously.

"Is it time?" she asked him in a whisper.

"Brienne is ready," he replied just as quietly.

"You're sure we can trust her?" she asked him for the thousandth time.

"I'm sure," he promised her.

"I'm scared Loras," she confessed then and he stepped towards her and crushed her into his arms.

"If you want to save the baby you have to go … it's the only way," he whispered.

"I know," she agreed, nodding against him, her voice stronger now.

"Come on, we need to get moving," he said and she pulled away from him to pull on her cloak and furs.

He managed to smile for her then and she returned it, albeit thinly. After he had checked to see that no one was around he gestured for her to follow him and she did as he bid, pulling up the hood of the cloak as they walked briskly through the near silent camp. Loras had made sure the lookouts were positioned at the opposite end, paying off those that would have been nearer when Margaery would depart from. He had warned Brienne already to start off slowly so the hooves of the horses would not alert anyone. They saw no one as they approached the undergrowth, the only sounds the snores of the men and distant shouts from the other side of camp. He shoved Margaery through the shrubbery ahead of him and followed after her, forcing a smile for the waiting Brienne.

"Ready your Grace?" Brienne asked and Margaery nodded.

"Best you don't call me that from now on," she said and Brienne smiled reassuringly.

"I'll call you Meg as we agreed," Brienne promised.

"Take care of her," Loras said warningly.

"I swore an oath to Renly and now I have sworn myself to protect his child … I won't fail you," she promised him and he nodded.

"You'd best go," he said then, turning to Margaery as Brienne mounted her horse.

"Thank you for this," she whispered and he stepped closer.

"I loved him," he whispered, "I want him to live on and I want you to be safe"

"I love you Loras," she said, blinking rapidly as her eyes stung, "I will never forget this"

"Just don't forget to tell the baby about their uncle," he tried to joke.

"Every day until I see you again," she promised him, gripping his hands tightly.

"Go Margaery … go," he said and she nodded.

He pulled her against him then, murmuring into her hair that he loved her before he wrenched away from her and helped her up onto her horse. She managed another smile for him then and he nodded to her, backing away into the shadows of the undergrowth as she and Brienne kicked their horses into motion and began to slowly fade away from his sight.

* * *

><p><em>Winterfell<em>

* * *

><p>"They have found nothing?" Catelyn asked incredulously.<p>

"Nothing," Ned confirmed heavily.

"He can't have just vanished!" she said, shaking her head and he sighed.

Jon had been gone three days and even though Ned had sent the few men he could spare out scouring the land for him there had been no trace of him. Robb and Theon had even been riding out to all their old haunts in the wolfswood but they had seen to sign of him either and Ned could see the guilt rising higher in his son every day. He seemed to think that he was partly responsible for Jon taking off but Ned knew that it was he himself who was the culprit. Catelyn did her best to comfort him but he could not shake off the feeling that he had not only betrayed Jon but Lyanna as well. He had promised her that he would keep her son safe and yet now he had no clue where he was. The door burst open then and Robb almost fell through it. Usually Ned would have scolded him for coming into his and Catelyn's chambers without knocking but his words failed him as he saw the letter clenched in his fist.

"What news?" he asked instead and Catelyn turned her own eyes on him.

"Jory," Robb started, out of breath from his run, "has Bran and … Arya at … Flint's Finger"

"Thank the Gods!" Catelyn cried but Ned frowned.

"And Sansa," he said lowly and he saw Robb pale as he shook his head.

"Where is she?!" Catelyn demanded at once as Ned snatched the letter from Robb.

"He says she slipped away and he couldn't find her … when the bells tolled for the King he knew he had to get out before Bran and Arya were discovered as well," Robb told her and her eyes welled with tears.

"He left her," she whispered, "he left her in that place … all alone …"

"I don't think he had a choice Cat," Ned said in a pained voice, "if Jory had continued searching for her he could have been caught and then all three of them would be stuck there"

"But …" she started.

"I will get her home Cat, I don't know how but I will," he promised her, crushing her against his chest as she broke down in tears.

* * *

><p>She was late. Theon sighed heavily, usually she was never late and he frowned as he tapped his foot impatiently against the grass, his eyes fixed on the tree where he had carved their names. He smiled slightly then, likely she would have a good excuse and be more than willing to make up for her tardiness. One thing he couldn't deny about Adele – she was always eager to please. He heard her soft footsteps behind him then and his smile widened. Finally. He turned to face her then, intending to make some jape about her lateness but the words died on his tongue as he took in her appearance. She'd been crying and her lip was trembling in a way that told him she was ready to start again at any given moment.<p>

"Adele?" he whispered, coming forward to take her hands in his.

"It's over Theon," she told him, taking a great shuddering breath when the words left her mouth.

"What?" he frowned, his hands tightening around hers.

"I'm to be married," she whispered then, her voice shaking.

"What?" he repeated.

"He's a Ser," she said, swallowing hard, "he is part of the town watch in Torrhen's Square … they say he is very good, that one day he will likely make Captain. He's a good match"

"A good match?" Theon repeated, "You can't … you can't marry him – you love me!"

"It's not my choice Theon!" she burst out, wrenching her hands from his grip.

"I'm going to speak to your father," he said, making to pound away from her but she grabbed him back.

"No!" she exclaimed, "No! You can't tell him about us, he would be furious with me!"

"You can't marry some Ser from Torrhen's Square! You belong with me, your father will understand once I tell him how much I …" he gabbled.

"No Theon!" she cut him off, "Even if you asked him to consider you he would say no!"

"Why?!" he demanded, "Because I'm not a Ser? I could be one day Adele and I'm part of the guard here … I could rise through the ranks!"

"Theon stop it!" she said desperately.

"Just give me one good reason?!" he retorted.

"Because you're not good enough!" she screamed before bursting into tears.

"For you?" he whispered incredulously.

"For him," she choked, "he won't tolerate your name Theon … he would never even consider letting me become a Greyjoy"

He stepped back from her a little then as she buried her face in her hands and sobbed. What he wanted was to put his arms around her and comfort her but how could he when she had stood in front of him and told him she was to marry another man? She was supposed to love him but all she had done was rebuff his own want to marry her. Surely her father would want her to be happy, no matter what his name was? Surely?

"Is this really about your father?" he asked her quietly.

"What else?" she sobbed out, lifting her head from her hands.

"Maybe you want to marry him," he said.

"I don't even know him," she shook her head, "I love you … you know I do!"

"I thought I did … but you refuse to even let me try," he said, shaking his head.

"I'm stopping you going to my father because I know he would never allow it, and the second he finds out about us he will send me away at once!" she almost shouted.

"You said it was over," he said.

"It has to be!" she insisted, "But I can't leave you … not yet … I just can't"

"Don't ever leave me," he begged her, coming to take hold of her hands again.

"Theon …" she almost moaned in frustration.

"Marry me instead," he implored her.

"Have you not just been listening to me?!" she demanded.

"No one would have to know … not until it's done and it's too late," he insisted.

"In secret?" she questioned him, her eyes wide.

"What's the alternative? Live without one another and regret it forever?" he asked desperately.

"He would be so angry …" she whispered.

"For a time," he agreed, "but he would come around … you're his daughter, he loves you"

"I don't know Theon …" she bit down on her lip and he closed his eyes and sighed heavily.

"That man would never be able to love you like I do … he knows nothing about you. He doesn't know that you get two creases between your brows when you're remembering something. He doesn't know that you can't walk straight after a few glasses of wine but drink ale like a man. He doesn't know how you liked to be touched," he brought one of his hands from hers so he could caress her cheek, "how you like to be kissed," he continued, leaning in to brush his lips lightly across her neck; "he doesn't know what your favourite flowers are or what your favourite smell is. He doesn't know that you make up all your dance steps because you hate the proper ones … he doesn't know any of that Adele and he can never know because you need to stay here with me. You _belong _with me," he stressed.

Adele stared at him then and he let his hand twitch around hers, keeping his other hand cupped around her cheek as she just gazed at him for the longest time. He kept eye contact with her, silently willing her to give in and agree to become his wife. It was foolish, it was reckless but he couldn't care less because once she was his that was it. Once it was done it could not be undone and it wouldn't matter what any man said because they would have pledged themselves to the Gods and there would be no going back. He wouldn't want to go back. He wouldn't need to go back because he would have her with him for the rest of his days.

"Please," he finally whispered.

"Yes," she nodded, tears streaming down her cheeks again.

"Yes?" he checked and she nodded more vigorously, words failing her as he pulled her against his chest.

"I promise you, I will love you forever and you will never regret this," he swore to her.

"I love you too," she managed to whisper back to him.

"Tomorrow," he murmured against her hair then, kissing the top of her head.

"Tomorrow," she agreed, her arms tightening around him.

* * *

><p><em>Beyond the Wall<em>

* * *

><p>"No fire tonight," Benjen said quietly and the man behind him sighed and dropped the wood.<p>

"It's freezing," Erik stated.

"Would you rather be dead?" Benjen asked him.

"No," he sulked.

"Come here to the edge, carefully now," Benjen said and a few of them inching forwards.

They took up the same position as Benjen, shuffling to the edge of the ledge on their stomachs and looking down into the valley below them. It had been three days up in this mountain cave with little food and no fire and they still had no idea what they were waiting for. Benjen had insisted they stay in the cave during the day and only venture onto the ledge outside at night. For the last two nights there had been nothing but blackness but tonight when they shuffled to his side they could see faint flames bobbing in the distance.

"What is it?" Daron asked.

"Wildlings?" Gren questioned and Benjen nodded.

"Aye, wildlings," Benjen confirmed.

"There's wildlings everywhere," Erik said, "what's special about these ones?"

"They're going somewhere," Benjen said.

"Where?" Gren asked.

"If I knew that I wouldn't be here," he replied.

"Are we going to follow them?" Erik asked.

"I'm hoping it won't come to that," Benjen told them.

"Then what?" Daron questioned.

"Hush and listen, they don't know we're here," Benjen said.

"You're hoping they'll give a clue?" Gren asked, his voice barely more than a whisper.

"If we're lucky, aye," he answered just as quietly.

They all fell silent then, even the odd shuffle of the others in the cave stopped and Benjen knew that they must have been listening to him as well. Gods he hoped these wildlings had mouths on them, most did. All he needed was some clue as to what they were up to. Whatever it was he would bet it would have something to do with Mance Rayder and just thinking about the deserter had his fists clenching. Bad enough he had left the Night's Watch but knowing he was now gathering wildlings to him made Benjen beyond uneasy. Mance was setting himself up as some kind of King and Benjen wanted to know exactly what he intended to do with this army he was gathering.

"… late … won't have … Mance … giants," he made out over the wind.

"… listen … won't … march," Benjen inched forwards even more and strained his ears.

"… you think … the Wall … down south," his heart pounded.

"… anyone can … Mance can," the flames of their torches were bobbing just beneath them now.

"… crows … never see it coming … will fall," Benjen seemed to hold his breath.

He caught another few odd words over the howling gale but he didn't really need to hear anymore. He had heard enough to piece it together. Mance was gathering the wildlings to him because he was planning to attack the Wall. His heart pounded as he slowly retreated backwards towards the cave as the torches bobbed away into the distance. He put his hands to his head. Gods he hoped he had imagined one of them saying _giants. _It didn't matter anyway, they had said enough for him to work it out and now the threat of the walkers seemed to be the least of his troubles. He hadn't seen any sign of them since Craster's Keep although the memory of seeing that creature with the babe in its arms haunted his dreams. He shook his head to clear it and saw his brothers looking at him expectantly. A long sigh left his mouth then as he tried to work out exactly how many men Mance would be able to gather. It would be tens of thousands at least and that was without considering the giants which his mind was not quite ready to accept yet. He swept his eyes over the pale faces that were waiting for him to speak then and he took a deep breath before speaking.

"We're heading back to the Wall," he said.

"Truly?" more than one of them piped up hopefully.

"Aye," he nodded grimly.

"Do you know what this Mance Rayder has planned then?" Gren asked him.

"I think I do," he nodded again.

"What?" Erik asked and the silence that fell around them was crushing.

"I think he is planning to lead the wildlings into battle," he told them, "I think he means to launch an attack upon the Wall."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Thoughts would be amazing. More soon!

:)


	23. Encounters

**A/N: **New chapter guys! Hope you all enjoy it.

Your thoughts as always would be very much appreciated!

:)

* * *

><p><strong>Encounters<strong>

* * *

><p><em>Winterfell<em>

* * *

><p>Her father had crept in just before dawn, she had heard the creak of the floorboards out in the hallway before his door had clicked shut. He had been on the night watch and Adele waited, not daring to move in her bed until the first shards of light filtered through her window. She hadn't closed the drapes when she had gone to bed so that when dawn came it would wake her. As it happened she had barely slept, her mind racing as she thought of what she and Theon were going to do. It was beyond foolish and her father would be beyond angry when he found out but Theon was right, they couldn't live without one another now. She loved Theon. Perhaps if she gave it a chance she could love the man she was supposed to be marrying but the truth was she didn't want to give it a chance. She wanted Theon and as she climbed out of bed as quietly as she could her heart pounded at the thought that soon enough she would have what she wanted.<p>

Adele dressed quickly and brushed her hair through. She imagined when she was a girl that she would spend hours preparing for her wedding and making sure she looked as beautiful as she possibly could. The day had come though and she stood in a plain blue dress that matched her eyes with her curls hung loose down her back. She scrutinized herself in the mirror and sighed. It would have to do, she dare not linger in case her father woke and caught her. If she was going to do this she would have to do it now. She reminded herself over and over that she loved Theon as she made her way to her bedroom door, her heart pounding as she slipped out with as little noise as possible. As she made her way lightly across the hallway she seemed to hold her breath, praying to the Gods that she didn't tread on the creaking floorboard. When she reached the steps she darted deftly down them, letting out her breath when she reached the bottom. She paused, listening for a long minute for any sign of her father waking before she walked to the front door and let herself out into the chilly morning air.

She shuddered slightly, walking quickly through the street and seeing no one as she turned up to head towards the Godswood. Even the baker had not yet risen and she was glad of it, she didn't want anyone seeing her today. Likely her father would sleep in until late morning and not question why she was already gone from the house. He was happy for her to come and go as she pleased but she imagined he would have been less than happy if he had known where she had been going all these months. He assumed she was with Dany or Serra and she never corrected him. She was at the entrance to the Godswood now and she took a deep breath to compose herself before she entered, her nerves easing somewhat as she saw Theon already there with the Septon who would witness their vows. Theon's own face broke out into a relieved smile as she approached and she somehow knew that part of him had worried that she wouldn't come. He took her hand as she reached him and nodded to the Septon. This was it.

* * *

><p>Theon could scarce believe it as they hurried along the cobblestone streets, their fingers laced together as he pulled her along. The town was beginning to stir now and he wanted his wife safely indoors before anyone spotted them. <em>His wife. <em>Gods he could not believe that he, Theon Greyjoy, had a wife. The thought had always been a negative one, he had never wanted to be tied to one woman but here he was, pulling her up to the door and fumbling in his doublet for the key. He had asked Lord Stark if he could take a house in the town now that he was part of the guard, telling him he wanted to settle properly at Winterfell. If the man had been surprised he hadn't shown it and he had thankfully granted Theon's request. Now he and Adele had a marital home that was all theirs and he could not wait to get her inside so they could truly begin their marriage.

"Where are we?" she asked him as he turned the key in the lock.

"Home," he told her and her eyes widened as he pushed open the door, gesturing for her to go inside.

There was not much at the moment but Adele could see the potential as her eyes roamed the large ground floor room. It served as a kitchen, dining and living area with a fire oven for cooking and a scrubbed down table with four chairs. There was a fireplace on the opposite wall with a fur rug in front of it and two comfortable chairs. She imagined adding some shelves and getting some pretty drapes to hang up in the window. She imagined a baby laying on the rug in front of the fire, kicking its little legs as Theon tickled at its belly. A smile spread across her face then as she turned to face her husband who was watching her take it all in with an uncertain look in his eye.

"I know it's not much …" he started.

"It's more than enough," she cut him off, stepping towards him and laying a hand on his chest.

"I had the smith make another key so you can come and go as you please until we decide to tell everyone," he said and she nodded slowly.

"Thank you," she smiled, "now … why don't you show me our bedchamber?"

He didn't need telling twice, grabbing her hand and practically dragging her up the narrow, winding staircase to the small landing on top. There were three doors, one that led to their room, the other to a smaller bedchamber and the third was a washroom. Adele could explore the rest of the house later though, right now he wanted her full attention in their bedchamber and he expected he wouldn't be letting her leave it for hours at least. She barely had a chance to take in more that the comfortable looking bed that dominated most of the room before Theon's lips crashed into hers, his tongue slipping into her mouth and causing a low moan to sound at the back of her throat.

Gods he loved that sound, it may be his favourite sound in the entire world. It was either that or the sound of her crying out his name when he made her come to her height. Her hands found the lacings of his doublet then and he shrugged out of it when she had loosened it before his own hands came to her laces and tugged on them. Her dress fell heavily to the floor then and he broke their kiss as she loosened his shirt, pulling away slightly to he could tug it up over his head, his eyes raking over her body that was now clad only in a shift. She kicked her dainty little shoes away then before meeting his eyes as he stepped slowly back towards her, his hand reaching out to pull the ties of her shift loose. When it too fell to the floor he let his eyes roam her naked body hungrily, finally taking in all of her, his breeches suddenly feeling uncomfortably tight. Adele swallowed hard as she watched him unlace himself, she had seen him uncovered before but never like this, never all at once. She backed towards the bed as he pulled off his boots and breeches, flinging the latter against the door as she lowered herself down onto the soft sheets and furs.

He was with her in an instant, crawling up her body and trailing kisses up and along her inner thigh, dipping his tongue into her waiting warmth, causing her to arch her back into him. He lingered long enough to make her moan wantonly before he continued his journey up her body, his hands coming to rest on her thighs and gently pull them further apart so he could nestle between them. She couldn't help the sudden tension that gripped her body as she felt him hard against her inner thigh, knowing that he would soon be taking her maidenhead. He felt her tension and pressed his body closer to hers, his lips trailing along her neck up to her cheek and down towards her lips. She kissed him back, their tongues dancing slowly with one another and he felt her body relax as one of his hands rubbed up and down her thigh, coaxing her legs up around his waist. He let his length rub between her legs then, coating himself with her arousal and causing a moan to leave her. They had never got this close before, he had never let himself, knowing if he had moved himself against her like this he would have ended up inside her. The temptation would have been too much. Now though, now he could be inside her because he was her husband and she was his wife. Just remembering that made his heart pound as he continued rubbing against her, preparing her as best he could.

When Theon shifted himself above her she knew that this was it, that he would finally claim her for his own, consummating their marriage and making it so the wedding could not be undone. The thought had scared her slightly the night before but now she was here with him in this room she could not even remember what she had been afraid of. She felt him then, felt his length pressing into her and she gasped against his lips as he began to push down ever so slowly. This was different entirely from the feel of his fingers inside her, this was all new and strange to her and she bit down on her lip when she felt the sting of him tearing through her maidenhead. Still he slid slowly into her until he filled her completely, making no move to rock his hips yet as his eyes searched for hers. She gazed up at him, her eyes thankfully dry; a trace of discomfort on her face but no tears and no cry of pain leaving her lips. Her hands wandered slowly up his arms then, coming to rest on his shoulders, rubbing lightly across them as he remained still inside her.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I love you too," she breathed back and at her words he bent to kiss her, finally letting his body move.

The first time he thrust she felt the dull, throbbing ache but when he made to move again and then again the pain seeped away into an almost nothing that she could easily ignore as the pleasure far outstripped it. Theon groaned against her lips as he continued on, her warmth feeling so good surrounding him as he thrust slowly, wanting her to get used to him; not wanting to hurt her any more than he had to. Her nails pinched slightly in his shoulders as she moved her own hips up to meet his pace and he groaned again, shifting her thigh higher up on his waist. She gasped in surprise and pleasure on his next thrust, feeling him touch something inside her which had her stomach coiling in familiar knots. He could sense her release coming, his fingers digging into the skin of her thigh as he continued moving slowly and deeply inside her. Her own nails pinched even harder into his shoulders then but the sting of them felt good, but not as good as her tightening further around him as he pushed her closer and closer. Her breathing was ragged, her breath hitching in her throat, small cries leaving her now each time he touched that perfect part. He groaned out as he willed his body to hold on, feeling and hearing her come to her end in the next moment, his name sounding so beautiful on her lips. It was seconds before he was with her, spilling himself into her and collapsing down against her, both of them breathing hard as they lay completely entwined and exhausted.

* * *

><p>"There you are," Robb's voice sounded behind her and Dany turned to send him a swift smile.<p>

"Were you looking for me?" she asked as she turned back to the dragon she had been trying to tempt with various meats.

"I was," he said, placing his hands on her hips and rolling his eyes as the dragon hissed at him.

It had become very clear, very quickly that the dragons did not take to just anyone. His father had been bitten, Ser Rodrik had his fingers burned and his mother refused point blank to go anywhere near them. Robb had persevered with them for Dany's sake, none of them had harmed him in any way but they made him feel thoroughly uneasy with their beady eyes and sharp little talons. He put up with them hissing and spitting at him for Dany because she absolutely adored them, fussing over them as though they were adorable, chubby little babes. The feeling seemed to be mutual, the dragons always chirruping away happily in her presence and nuzzling their heads against her hand whenever she petted them. The only other person they seemed to tolerate was Rickon but they had hissed at him a few times when he had dared bring Shaggy Dog into their presence. Grey Wind refused to even enter the part of the kennels they were housed in and Robb didn't bother trying to force him, leaving him to sit sulking outside instead.

"What did you need me for?" Dany asked then, catching his attention.

"This," he said, wrapping his arms around her waist and nuzzling against her neck.

"Is that all?" she giggled.

"Do you want more?" he asked her, nipping at her skin and making her gasp in pleasure.

"Always," she breathed and he trailed kisses up to her cheek.

She turned her head then so he could claim her lips that he could still not get enough of. The feel of her and the taste of her was all so overwhelming and all-consuming and he could not ever imagine a day dawning where he didn't want her. His heart pounded as he pulled away slightly, reminding himself that they were not wed just yet. They would be though and just thinking of it made his heart feel like it would burst right through his chest.

"There was something," he breathed.

"Go on," she urged him.

"I can't wait for you," he said.

"Robb …" she started.

"I think we should get married as soon as we can," he said and she pulled back further.

"Without Jon?" she questioned.

"If we have to," he said regretfully, "I can't stand you not being mine, every day you are not my wife is a day wasted"

"Then let's do it," she smiled.

"Truly?" he asked, his own lips quirking up.

"Truly," she confirmed, pecking his lips, "not being your wife is killing me."

* * *

><p><em>Beyond the Wall<em>

* * *

><p>They'd risked a fire and now they were going to pay for it.<p>

Benjen unsheathed his sword as he heard the rustle in the trees. The hairs on the back of his neck were standing up as he prayed to the Gods that it was wildlings and not the walkers that were readying themselves to ambush them. Around him his brothers all readied their own weapons, their eyes darting about uneasily in the darkness trying to locate the point of attack. An arrow rushed a whisper passed Benjen's cheek then and hit one of his men square in the chest. He fell to his knees with a roar of pain, slumping forward in the next instant and Benjen knew he was dead. A heartbeat later he knew they were in big trouble as a group of at least fifty wildlings came at them. Arrows flew every which way and Benjen and his men did their best to dodge them whilst engaging the wildlings in combat. Two fell dead at Benjen's feet before he whirled around to clash swords with a third, seeing that at least four of his own men were already dead. He had no time to guess how many wildlings they had bested as his new opponent posed much more of a challenge than his last two.

Their steel clashed hard against one another and for the first time in days Benjen actually felt warm as he battled the man. He hoped to Gods that the sound of this fight would not draw any unwanted attention from beings that neither the black brothers nor the wildlings could fight.

"Fucking crows!"

"Die bastards!"

"Fucking wildlings!"

Shouts and screams, threats and obscenities rose up from both sides of the clash as the fighting grew more frenzied and ferocious. Finally the man Benjen had been up again made the slightest mistake which allowed him the time to drive his sword hard into his stomach, ramming it so hard into him that the steel came out the other side. Blood gushed warm over his hands as he had to bring up his knee to help wrench his sword back out of the dead man. He swept his eyes over the scene again then and saw that there were barely any left standing on either side. Bren was desperately trying to fend off one of the remaining wildlings but Benjen could see he was almost bested so he charged up behind the wildling and stabbed him in the back. Perhaps it wasn't the most noble way to kill a man but right now it was kill or be killed and Benjen could not afford to lose any more men. There was a final dying scream then and Benjen turned to see the last wildling fall dead before he reached his hand out to pull Bren to his feet, both of them breathing hard. There was only one other standing; Erik, and he looked to be clutching his arm, blood dripping onto the snow.

"Look for any more survivors," Benjen ordered, "I'll see to him"

"What about the wildlings?" Bren asked him.

"Deliver them a quick death if any still breathe," he said and Bren nodded.

"How bad is it?" Benjen asked Erik then.

"Little more than a scratch," he panted.

"It'll need to be bandaged up, quick now, before any more of them come," Benjen told him.

Erik removed his cloak and furs, shivering as he stripped right down to his shirt and pulled aside the sleeve so Benjen could see what damage was done. It wasn't that deep, more than a scratch but he was almost certain that Erik would live. He wouldn't be much good at swinging a sword for a time though and he prayed that they would not run into any more large groups of wildlings, nor anything else for that matter. _No more fires, _he promised himself before realising that they would have to light an almighty fire to get rid of the bodies. Now that he knew the walkers were all too real he would have to make sure any bodies were burned so they could not be reanimated. They had just killed a living band of wildlings, he didn't fancy taking them on again dead, knowing that dead they would be joined by his fallen brothers.

"Pile the bodies up," he said to Bren then and he nodded.

They both moved to drag them into one sickening pile then and Benjen closed his eyes for a moment and said a silent prayer for the souls of his fallen brothers before he took the oil that Erik had brought from their supplies and poured it all over the heap of dead. Bren lit a torch from the dying embers of their fire then and brought it forward, handing it to Benjen without a word before retreating to stand with Erik. Benjen took a deep breath before bringing the torch down to the bodies which ignited at once, he tossed the torch into the midst of the flames before he too walked away. Bren and Erik fell into step with him as they made for the trees. It would do no good to be seen now with a huge beacon pointing to where they had recently been. It was a long journey back to the Wall but they had to make it, the Watch needed to be warned that an attack was coming and that the walkers had risen again. They would need help from the seven kingdoms to fight them off and Benjen could only pray that they would listen and come to their aid.

* * *

><p><em>Woodland, near the Last River<em>

* * *

><p>Jon staggered slightly through the trees, clinging to the bottle in his hand. He had sold his horse for wine, he imagined when he sobered up he would realise what a fucking stupid thing to do that had been. Right now he didn't care though because right now his head was in a state of fuzzy bliss where he could forget all about being a bastard Targaryen and forget all about being a dishonourable shit. He had no idea where he was stumbling to, his feet had left the King's Road sometime that morning and the sun had long since set. He could hear the clink of more wine bottles in the knapsack on his back and figured he had enough that he wouldn't miss his horse for a good few days at least. The sound of running water drew his attention then and he let his feet stumble further towards it. If he had been sober he imagined he would know which river or stream he was coming upon but right now he knew nothing. Knowing nothing was fun. Knowing nothing was wonderful. Knowing nothing meant he couldn't feel any pain or sense of betrayal.<p>

He could have snorted then. Who was he fooling? Not himself that was for sure and there was no one else in this Gods forsaken woods. Getting drunk had seemed like a wonderful idea when he had come across that inn. He had asked them for work and they had told him he could chop up firewood. It had been quite satisfying driving an axe through the wood over and over again but it soon grew boring and his mind soon wandered back to Winterfell. He hadn't wanted to think of Winterfell though and so he had taken to drink instead. First the strong ale and when that had started to churn his stomach he had gone onto the wine. He had intended to stay longer at the inn but that was before he emptied the contents of his stomach over the bar and the inn keep had thrown him out in the early morning. Somehow through the haze he managed to swap his horse for as much wine as would fit in his knapsack and staggered along on his merry way.

He would regret selling that horse eventually but not yet. The sounds of the water were rushing closer now and he frowned slightly as he imagined he could hear voices over it. Surely not. Who would want to be out here at this time? Jon was sure he was hearing them in his head, perhaps the wine had driven him to madness then. He really did snort then and before he knew it he was laughing. That would be the Targaryen blood then, sending him mad. Gods what hope did he have, out here in the freezing cold of the northern countryside hearing voices? Could it get any worse? As he thought that he stumbled out of the woodland and blinked rather rapidly as he took in the scene in front of him. Where in the Gods was he? The bulk of the northern army had been sent down to the border hadn't it? Had he accidently gone south instead of north? No … surely he couldn't have been that drunk, could he? He forced his eyes to focus then, his vision still swimming as he tried to make out the banners that were fluttering in the night. One caught the light of a fire then and he blinked again. He was seeing things. There were no Targaryen's. Unless he counted Dany. And himself, he thought bitterly. There were certainly no Targaryen's with armies and yet there was the three headed dragon on the background of black waving happily in the chilly wind.

A sober Jon probably would have turned and fled. Drunk Jon took several steps closer and was completely oblivious to the shouts of the men and the pounding footsteps approaching him. Sober Jon probably would have fought harder against them when the pulled the sack over his head and dragged him blindly to the Gods knew where. Drunk Jon was more concerned that they might search his knapsack and steal all his wine. Sober Jon might have shouted and sworn at them and demanded to know what in the name of the Gods they were doing. Drunk Jon made no protest as they shoved him to the ground, his head lifting feebly for a moment before he let it slump back to the floor and let the darkness consume him.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Thoughts would be most awesome! Hope you all enjoyed that, will have another one for you in a few days.

:)


	24. Guilt

**A/N:** Hey guys, new chapter for you all!

**Star Fox mk1:** Thanks for your review. I'm glad you're enjoying the story and hope you enjoy this new update. My Jon is slightly different from canon Jon so maybe that's why the reaction isn't what you expected. Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Thoughts as always my lovely readers would be much appreciated!

:)

* * *

><p><strong>Guilt<strong>

* * *

><p><em>Stony Sept <em>

* * *

><p>The town that was usually so busy by day had few night time wanders and Sandor was glad of it as he and the Stark girl rode through it to the outskirts where he knew there was an inn they could rest at where for the right price no questions could be asked. Most nights they had spent out in the wilds and the Stark girl had shivered herself to sleep each night, even the presence of her wolf at her side hadn't seemed to warm her and Sandor had actually thought that she may die before they even made it to the Riverlands. He had worked out a few days into their journey north that there was no chance in the seven hells of them making it all the way to Winterfell. With that in mind he had considered the Eyrie and Riverrun, wondering which of her mother's siblings would be most likely to take the girl in. His first thought had been the Eyrie, Lysa Arryn was a mother herself and would surely pay the gold? Then he remembered that she was said to be quite mad and considered the pain in the arse it would be to actually make it through the Vale. That left Riverrun and her grandfather. Hostor Tully was supposed to be on his death bed, his son Edmure having taken over the running of the place. Hopefully the man took his house words seriously, Sandor sincerely hoped he did as he glanced at the Stark girl. She was paler than a corpse, her lips faintly blue. The sooner he got her inside the better.<p>

Thankfully the direwolf, Lady, stupid name for such an animal, took one look at the inn and turned tail. Likely the beast would catch up with them when they got on with their journey again in the morning, preferably after a good hot meal. Sandor helped the fragile girl down from her horse and half carried her through the door, ignoring everyone in the inn and steering her right to a seat in front of the fire. She slumped down into it and he frowned at her for a moment before letting his eyes wander the room. There were few people around, those few who had not yet retired paid them no mind. A few of them seemed to have passed out at their tables and he breathed a sigh of relief. He could take them all down but he was rather pleased he wouldn't have to. Right now he wanted a belly full of ale and food and so he approached the inn keep and asked for as much hot food and strong ale as he could muster up. The man obliged him, looking as though all his name days had come at once as Sandor slammed down the coin, watching him bustle into the kitchen before he made his own way to sit with the Stark girl.

She ate slowly and carefully when the food came as Sandor guzzled down his own fill, washing it down with great gulps of strong ale. The girl took none for herself and he took another long drink before lowering the flagon and contemplating her for a long moment. There was some colour in her cheeks now, perhaps she would make it to Riverrun after all. He could see the haunted look in her eyes though and despite telling himself he was only in it for the gold he found himself wondering exactly what it was that was troubling her so.

"You should eat more," he told her gruffly.

"I've had enough," she said in a weary voice.

"You'll regret it tomorrow," he told her but she merely shrugged.

"Where are you taking me?" she asked after a moment.

"I told you," he said, "Riverrun"

"Why not Winterfell?" she frowned.

"Because I doubt you'd live that long," he said honestly and she didn't look phased by his words.

"I should have gone with Jory … stupid Sansa," she hissed under her breath then.

"You'll get home, the Tully's will see to that," he said.

"My father will be angry," she said.

"I doubt that," he said.

"I disobeyed him, maybe that's why he left me at the Capitol, to teach me a lesson," she said.

"Don't be fucking stupid," he growled out.

"It's all my fault," she said then and he frowned.

"All what?" he questioned.

"Septa Mordane … Jeyne … where is Jeyne? Even Joffrey," she told him in a slightly dazed manner.

"That little prick was responsible, not you," he said.

"I have all this guilt inside me," she confessed then, her eyes meeting his.

"You made the wrong decision, plenty have done that but you paid the price … a high price," he said.

"Do you think they'll want me back?" she whispered.

"Of course they'll want you back," he said incredulously, "Gods girl, has the south turned you soft in the head?!"

"Perhaps," she said and he saw a tiny smile grace her lips.

"Stop feeling sorry for yourself and eat some more food, you need your strength," he growled.

She gave him no reply but she did as she was told and pulled some more food towards her, he watched her for a moment, almost smiling before he caught himself and pulled his flagon of ale up to his lips again.

* * *

><p><em>Winterfell<em>

* * *

><p>"Adele!"<p>

Adele looked up at the call and smiled over at Dany as she approached her with a huge smile on her face. Dany had been permanently smiling since her betrothal to Robb had been announced publically and Adele was thrilled for her, for both of them. She hadn't needed Theon to tell her that Robb and Dany harboured feelings for one another, it had been glaringly obvious from the very moment she had first seen them together at Winterfell.

"What is it?" she asked Dany then as the fair girl came closer to her.

"I had the most wonderful idea," Dany grinned at her and her curiosity was peaked.

"And what would that be?" she questioned with a smile of her own.

"Since we are both to be married soon I thought we could both go to the seamstress and have our dresses fitted together," Dany said excitedly.

"Oh," Adele said, suddenly aware of the cool metal of her wedding band that she kept on a chain and tucked down the front of her bodice.

"I thought you'd like that," Dany said, looking crestfallen.

"I do!" she protested, searching for an excuse, "It is just the coin … I'm not sure if my father …"

"If I would what?" her father's voice came from behind her then.

"I …" she stumbled over her explanation.

"I thought it would be nice if Adele and I went to the seamstress together to have our wedding gowns fitted," Dany told him.

"A wonderful idea!" Ser Ralf beamed.

"But … the coin …" Adele tried weakly.

"Don't worry about that," he assured her, "let me spoil you while I still have the chance"

"If you insist," she said, not seeing what else she could possibly say in protest.

"Come on, let's go now!" Dany said happily, grabbing her arm and practically dragging her towards the seamstress'.

Once inside Adele hovered nervously as Dany chattered away happily about the beautiful white gown she wanted and the seamstress suggested various styles that would suit her. Adele felt horrible, knowing that Dany wanted to share her excitement as a fellow bride to be but she could not find it in her to even pretend. Her heart hammered as she thought of her and Theon and the fact that soon they wouldn't be able to hide it any more. She was due to go to Torrhen's Square at the end of the month and time was running out for her to be honest and tell her father what she had done. The thought of his reaction had her cringing but still she could not find it in her to regret her secret marriage. She loved Theon, loved him more than anything and her feelings had only grown stronger since their union. Dany turned to look at her then and she tried to quickly paint a smile on her face.

"Come on … you ought to come and choose your own fabric," she insisted.

"Oh … I'm not sure just yet …" Adele said.

"Well come and have a proper look," Dany encouraged her, frowning slightly.

"I …" she took a step forward before faltering, "I can't do this … I'm sorry Dany," she managed to get out before she fled leaving a thoroughly confused Dany behind her.

* * *

><p>Ned watched Catelyn as she conversed with Robb, seeing how his wife managed to keep a smile on her face as their conversation finished. He knew it was more than a little forced but she was determined to keep up appearances for Robb's sake. The wedding was to take place soon and both he and Dany had been practically skipping around Winterfell. Their happiness was contagious and just the thing that was needed to distract them from Sansa's continued absence and the threat of war from the south. Things seemed quiet on that front at the moment but that didn't stop Ned from being almost constantly on edge. They would get sucked into the war eventually and still he had no idea who he would march for when the time came. Sansa was the focus of his worry at the moment but he knew marching on the Capitol and demanding her back would likely just result in her death. It seemed that whatever move he considered would put her life in even more danger than it already was. News from the Capitol seemed to have fizzled out and they knew nothing of what was happening there. Ned was doing his best to find out but he was no Varys, no little birds sang for him.<p>

He brought a smile to his own face then as Catelyn turned from her conversation with Robb, his eyes drifting to his son who was wandering out into the courtyard. At least he and Rickon were safe here and Bran and Arya would soon be brought up from Flint's Finger. He had sent a guard down for them the instant he had received the letter and he could not wait for them to get back home and ease some of his and Catelyn's worries. Once they were back they could put all their focus on Sansa and getting her home safely. Catelyn has suggested writing to Petyr Baelish for help but he had refused her at once. She may remember him fondly from her childhood and have faith in him but Ned had seen him at the Capitol and he had seen no trace of the boy Catelyn had described to him. Getting him involved would only make things worse for Sansa; that much he was sure of.

"What are you thinking so hard about?" Catelyn asked him then.

"Sansa," he said and he saw the pained look cross her features.

"What can we do Ned?" she whispered.

"If I knew that I'd be doing it," he said heavily and she nodded, coming closer so he could fold her into an embrace.

They stood like that for the longest time, her arms wrapped tightly around his waist with her head leaning against his heart as his hand stroked soothingly through her hair. Counting his heartbeats sent waves of calmness washing through her and she almost managed to make herself stop imagining the worst. The thought of Sansa alone and surrounded by enemies had her constantly on the verge of breaking down but in Ned's arms she almost let herself feel reassured. He would think of something she knew he would. He always did because he was good, honourable, dependable Ned and he always came up with something. _Always. _

"Forgive me my Lord, my Lady," Ser Rodrik interrupted then and they regretfully broke apart.

"What is it?" Ned asked.

"Word has finally reached us about the Capitol," he said.

"From where?" Catelyn asked before Ned could say any more.

"From your brother, Lord Tully," Ser Rodrik nodded to her.

"What news?" Ned asked almost impatiently.

"King Joffrey is dead my Lord," he told him then and Catelyn gasped.

"How?" Ned asked weakly.

"There were riots in the city, he was killed on a procession," he said and Ned swallowed hard.

"Any news of Sansa?" he asked.

"No my Lord," Ser Rodrik said in a slightly pained voice, "I'm afraid that's all"

"Thank you," Ned forced a smile and he bowed shortly before walking away from him.

Ned turned to Catelyn then and folded her back into his arms without a word. He didn't need to ask, he had seen it in her eyes that she had realised the same thing as he had. If Joffrey had been killed on a procession then it was likely that Sansa had been on it with him as they were still formally betrothed. He tried his hardest not to picture his sweet, vulnerable daughter in the midst of all that chaos, it made him feel sick to even consider what could have befallen her.

* * *

><p><em>King's Landing<em>

* * *

><p>Tyrion looked up at them, their bodies swinging in the light breeze high above the walls of the keep. A reminder to everyone of what happened when you went against the Lannister's. No one had spoken at first, not one whisper was to be found, but then his father had arrived in the Capitol and lips soon loosened. Gold talked. And Tywin Lannister had mountains of the stuff. Cersei had screamed and cried and sobbed until their father agreed to pay. Consequently six men were dead and they had died repulsively slowly. Cersei had personally seen to it that the ropes they were hung from were drawn up slowly once they had been placed around their necks. Tyrion had watched, unable to look away despite his unease, as their legs had flailed and they had choked and spluttered as the rough rope had slowly squeezed the life from them. Perhaps they deserved it. Perhaps they didn't. Joffrey had been a little shit but to be trampled and kicked and stamped to death was a cruel demise. Then again, what proof beyond the word of small folk desperate for gold was there that these men had committed the crime? They had been charged with starting the riots and regicide and not one of them had said a word in their defence.<p>

Tyrion found that odd, but what he found odder was the behaviour of Varys. Usually the eunuch gave nothing away but when those men had been dragged before his father Tyrion could have sworn that he saw the man blanch. Just for a second. It had been nagging at him ever since, his suspicions even further peaked when the man didn't come and watch the executions. It was with all that in mind that he found himself slowly making his way to Varys' lair, hoping that he wasn't around so he could have a free run at finding something. What he was looking for he didn't know, but when he reached the thankfully empty room he went at once to the desk and began rifling through the drawers.

Nothing.

He sighed. Perhaps he had been wrong, hasty even. Perhaps all this time living with Cersei's paranoia had finally rubbed off on him. He went to push the final drawer back in then but his thumb brushed the edge of what felt like parchment on the underside of it. Tyrion bent down then and looked underneath, seeing a sheet of parchment pinned into the wood, he pulled it off carefully and unfolded it. His eyes widened as he read it. There wasn't much there but it was enough. A payment sheet, hefty payments made to a total of fifteen men. Six of the names Tyrion recognised all too well, seeing them swinging lifelessly in the breeze behind his eyes. The other nine could be anyone, and they had gotten away with murder. He took a deep breath then, staring at the names and the payments. No reason was given but Tyrion didn't need one. He knew. He knew that Varys had paid these men to start the riots that had resulted in Joffrey's death. What he couldn't understand was why.

If he was a good son, a good brother, a good man even, he would take this to his father and sister and let them pat him on the head and tell him what a clever little imp he was. That's what he should do, Joffrey was his nephew after all, albeit a spiteful, hateful little child but a child nonetheless. He sighed heavily and crushed the parchment in his hand. These men may have families of their own, sons and daughters and wives who would no doubt meet grim fates of their own without them. Revealing the list would only cause more pain and it would not bring Joffrey back. Best everyone's attention was focused on Tommen now. He walked to the fire and stared into the flames.

"Lord Tyrion, I wasn't expecting you," Varys said from the doorway.

"You ought to know better," Tyrion said, fixing him with a look.

"Excuse me?" he simpered.

"I found your little list … you've been busy," Tyrion stated and the eunuch blanched.

"My Lord …" Varys began.

"You belong to me now," Tyrion said before he threw the list into the fire.

* * *

><p><em>Targaryen Camp, near the Last River<em>

* * *

><p>"Who is he?" Aegon asked.<p>

"Some drunk," Griff replied stiffly, looking the passed out man up and down.

"What was he doing here?" he persisted.

"Likely he stumbled across us by accident, perhaps his hovel is nearby," Griff said dismissively.

"Were there any others?" Aegon asked then.

"The guards saw no one else," he told him.

"And they looked properly?" Aegon was not letting this go.

"They scoured the surrounding area, no trace of there being anyone else," Griff promised.

"I want to speak with him when he wakes up," he said.

"Really … there is no need, when he wakes we will pay him to keep his mouth shut and send him on his way," Griff sighed.

"I want to speak with him when he wakes up," he repeated more insistently.

"Fine," Griff sighed in defeat.

"Could be he might be useful," Aegon said, sweeping his eyes over him again.

"Somehow I doubt that very much," Griff sniffed.

* * *

><p><em>Winterfell<em>

* * *

><p>Theon started when he pushed open the door and saw Adele bustling around the fire, adding something to the pot that was bubbling over it and emitting the most delicious smell. He had not been expecting to find her here when he returned from his shift. It had been a long day and he had anticipated coming back to a cold, empty house and forcing down some bread and cheese before passing out upstairs. Instead the fire was roaring and it was seductively warm, there was his beautiful wife fixing dinner for him and he doubted very much that he would just be sleeping when he went up to bed. She turned and fixed him with a smile then as he sat heavily in a chair and pulled off his boots.<p>

"I wasn't expecting you," he said with a grin.

"One of the guards has taken ill so my father took on the night shift," she told him and his smile widened.

"So I have you to myself all night?" he questioned her and he saw her smile as she stirred the pot.

"You do," she confirmed.

"You didn't have to do all this," he told her.

"I'm your wife … it's about time I started acting like it," she said and he frowned slightly.

"Has something happened?" he asked her and she sighed heavily as she ladled some broth into a bowl for him.

"I saw Dany earlier," she said, handing him his dinner.

"And?" he pressed.

"She was so excited, wanting us to go and have our wedding gowns made together," she told him.

"Adele …" he sighed.

"I tried to say no but then she asked my father and I had no choice," she said, shaking her head.

"You went?" he asked, raising his brows.

"I had no choice," she repeated, "but I couldn't stand it … I felt so guilty and I had to leave"

"It won't be forever," he soothed.

"No it won't," she agreed, "we have to tell them Theon … tomorrow"

"If that's what you want," he said.

"It is," she nodded determinedly.

"Then that's what we'll do," he promised.

"Let's not think on it now, let's just have one more night of happiness," she said.

"We have a lifetime of happiness ahead of us," he returned.

"You may need to remind me of that once my father finds out," she smiled slightly.

"I'll remind you of it every day," he promised, setting his empty bowl aside.

"Do you want more?" she asked him.

"I'm not hungry," he said, standing up, "not for food anyway …"

Adele smiled at his underlying meaning and let him pull her into his arms, her head already tilting up so he could claim her lips. He didn't disappoint her, kissing her at once and making desire well up in her ever so easily. She had scarce been able to get enough of him since that first time, it was agony sleeping in an empty bed without him. It was far more preferable to her when she could sneak away and they could entwine themselves around one another and make love until they were both too exhausted to move. Then they would just lay wrapped up in one another and she would savour the precious time they had until she would inevitably have to slide unwillingly from his clutches and return home before her father grew worried or suspicious. Theon was tugging at the ties of her dress then and she let her own hands push away his doublet and loosen his shirt. When he pulled away slightly to slide her dress from her shoulders she tugged it up and over his head, letting her hands roam his bare chest.

He looked so perfect in the warm glow of the firelight and she was aching for him, her hands coming to unlace his breeches as his own swiftly untied her shift and let it fall to the floor. His lips came to her shoulder, trailing hot kisses along the bare skin of her collarbone and neck as he lowered them to the floor, shifting her so she could lay on the thick fur rug in front of the dancing fire. Her chest was heaving and he couldn't help but let his lips wander to her perfect breasts, coaxing a moan from her lips that had his length unbearably hard. His hands roamed up and down her side as he continued to tease at her breast, her own hands running firmly through his hair before she lightly scraped her nails down his back, causing him to arch into her. Another moan escaped her as she felt him hard up against her, her legs coming to wrap around his waist, his hand coming to her thigh to stroke up and down it as he positioned himself above her and pushed slowly into her.

It seemed like forever since he had last made love slowly to her, usually she only had limited time and their encounters would be wild and frantic, not that he didn't enjoy them but he wanted to savour her tonight. He wanted to make it last because he had her all night and he wanted to take in every inch of her and memorize everything about the way she looked and sounded and felt as they entwined completely with one another. He let his hips rock slowly in and out of her warmth, her own hips moving to meet his as he pressed his body as close to hers as he could manage. Adele's hands wandered the muscles of his arms and shoulders, before they moved down his back to feel the way his muscles moved as he rocked pleasure through her entire body. She dug her heels into his thighs, her back arching beneath him as he hit that perfect spot that made her want to lose all control. It was so easy being with him like this and so very right. She wasn't sure how she would ever get enough of the things he did to her and from the way he looked at her in that moment she just knew that he felt the same.

He met her deep blue eyes as he continued to move, seeing her gazing back at him, the beauty of her astounding him as he leant close enough to feel her ragged breathing on his lips. Tomorrow would be difficult but right here right now it was ever so simple as he continued to rock his hips, feeling her chest rising and falling against his own as he pressed so close to her. Somehow he managed to tear his eyes from hers, leaning even closer so he could capture her lips. They wrenched from hers all too soon though as the door crashed open and he snapped his eyes to see who had interrupted them, his heart almost stopping when he caught sight of them.

"Theon!" Ser Ralf burst out, "I was knocking, I'm sorry I …"

He cut off then and Theon didn't need to ask why, it was obvious from the look on his face that his eyes had found the face of the girl lying naked beneath him.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Sorry to tease you all with the Jon/Aegon meeting, it's going to be a rather long section so saving it for the next chapter!

Hope you enjoyed this anyway, thoughts would be lovely as ever.

:)


	25. Coming Clean

**A/N: **Hey guys! Picking right up where the last one left off. Also the Jon/Aegon meeting and plenty more!

Hope you enjoy and thoughts would be awesome!

:)

* * *

><p><strong>Coming Clean<strong>

* * *

><p><em>Winterfell<em>

* * *

><p>Theon barely had time to pull on his breeches before Ser Ralf was dragging him to the door. He heard Adele cry out to caution her father but he didn't listen. She scrambled up from the floor then, wrapping her dress around her as quickly as she could before she stumbled out of the door in time to see Theon punched to the ground. Other voices could be heard then as she screamed out at her father to stop, knowing that he wouldn't. Ser Ralf pulled his sword then and Theon raised his hands up in a gesture of surrender, begging him to just stop for a moment and listen but the man barely heard him, unable to get the image of his daughter being dishonoured from his mind. Adele was sobbing then, coming up behind her father and pleading with him to lower his weapon so she could explain, tugging on his arm that was unmoving as he held the sword barely an inch from Theon's throat.<p>

"What is this?! Ser Ralf, what is the meaning of this?!" Lord Stark was here now and Adele wished she could disappear, it was humiliating enough as it was.

"He dishonoured my daughter!" Ser Ralf roared.

"Please, please listen to me please, he never dishonoured me!" Adele pleaded.

"Lower your sword … this isn't the way," Ned coaxed him.

"I know what I saw!" he shouted then, his hands shaking with rage.

"Please … it isn't how it seems …" Adele begged him.

"I saw you Adele, how can you deny it?!" he rounded on her then and Theon scrambled up to his feet.

"Leave her alone!" Theon snarled.

"You're to be married!" Ser Ralf cried aghast, staring at her as though he had never seen her before.

"I'm already married," she whispered then and his sword clattered to the ground.

"What did you say?" he asked her in a dangerously low voice.

"I married Theon," she confessed, "I couldn't bear the thought of being parted from him …"

"You married him?" her father said, shaking his head slowly.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, "I'm so sorry … but I love him … please"

He turned from her then, unable to even bear to look at her anymore. His Adele who was everything he had in the world, who he wanted the very best for had thrown away her good match in favour of the son of a traitor who had none of the prospects he had wanted for her. How could he have been so stupid? How could he have been so blind to what was evidently happening right under his nose? His mind raced with all the times he had seen them over the last months, seeing things now he had not seen at the time. The way they smiled at one another, the way their eyes would meet, his hands resting just a little too familiarly on her waist when they danced together. Gods he could see it all now. All the signs had been there but he had been ignorant to them and now it was too late. He began to walk then, barely feeling the reassuring pat on the back Lord Stark gave him and he walked heavily away from them. Away from her.

"Father! Father please!" Adele called after him but he ignored her.

"Let him go Adele … let him work it out in his mind," Theon soothed her.

"This was very foolish," Ned said sternly then.

"I'm sorry Lord Stark," Theon said, "but I truly love her … I will take whatever punishment you see fit"

"I think you've both been punished enough," he said with a sigh, his eyes sliding from Theon's bloody lip to the tears tracking Adele's cheeks.

Theon nodded distractedly then before turning his attention back to his near hysterical wife, ushering her back inside the house and away from the stares and the whispers. Ned sighed heavily again when the door closed behind them. The thought of Theon having a wife would have been laughable if the situation wasn't so serious. Still, it was done now and Ned hoped that they would at least be happy as he turned and strolled back towards the keep, wondering what the others would make of it when they found out.

* * *

><p><em>Flint's Finger<em>

* * *

><p><em>It was hazy. Smoke, he realised after a moment. And where there was smoke there was fire. It was as he thought that that a loud roar sounded above him, the force of it almost shaking the ground he was stood on. He should have been afraid but he felt calm as he stood there, his eyes lifting, searching; his nose sniffing at the smoky air. He took a few steps forward then, the haze of the smoke clearing slightly in a sudden gust of wind. Its clearing allowed him to see more, see the burning city in the distance and standing a few feet away from him, three of them with their backs to him. Two were fair, one he recognised the scent of and the other he didn't. The third was incredibly familiar to him, dark and smelling like his brother. He lifted his eyes higher then and saw the banners fluttering above them, one he had seen a thousand times and the other that he had thought lost forever … <em>

"Bran! Bran! Wake up Bran!"

It was Arya jumping up and down on his bed as he opened his eyes, irritated with her for pulling him out of his dream. It had been an interesting one, one that felt a little more like reality than a dream. He shook his head then as she continued jumping up and down, finally stopping when he shifted himself up in the bed, dropping down to sit on the end of his bed with a huge grin on her face.

"What is it?" he asked her groggily.

"The men have arrived from Winterfell!" she practically squealed, "We're going home!"

* * *

><p><em>Targaryen Camp, near the Last River<em>

* * *

><p>"Who are you?" Jon asked suspiciously.<p>

"I could ask you the same thing," Aegon said, setting a plate of breakfast in front of him which almost made Jon gag; "not ready for food yet?" he raised a brow.

"No," Jon said weakly.

"Where have you come from?" Aegon asked him.

"Hell," Jon muttered.

"Sounds like quite the journey," he said lightly and Jon snorted.

"Who are you?" Jon asked again.

"Who do you think I am?" Aegon countered and Jon frowned at him.

"Dany thinks you're dead," he said quietly then.

"Sorry?" it was Aegon's turn to frown.

"Viserys?" Jon said slowly.

"No," he shook his head.

"But …" Jon's frown deepened. Who else could be that Targaryen?

"Aegon," he said and Jon's brows practically shot up into his hairline.

"That's impossible … he was killed as a babe … what kind of sick jape is this?!" Jon demanded.

"A babe was killed … but it was just some common boy who was swapped with me," Aegon explained.

"No," Jon shook his head, "no … you can't be …"

Aegon frowned at him as he continued to shake his head and mutter his denials over and over under his breath. Something about him was odd. He knew more than any simple drunk would know and he spoke with an accent that sounded as though he was well educated. Griff had tried to persuade him to just cast him back into the woods with his wine and some coin but Aegon was glad now that he had refused. There was something … what was it?

Jon looked up at him then, seeing the crease in his brow, his eyes sliding to his. They looked like Dany's. Could it be true? Could this man who looked the part actually be who he was claiming to be? Could he be Aegon Targaryen? His _brother. _That hit him hard then. Really hard. It hit him so hard he was surprised he wasn't crushed by the weight of it all. Jon had been so concerned with how his relationship had changed with the Stark's to even think about how it changed his relations on the other side. It hit him then that Dany was his kin, she was his aunt, she had family in him that she thought she had lost and he had run away from that. He put his head in his hands and tried to stop the pounding headache. Why had he drank so much? Why had he run away?

"Who are you?" Aegon asked him quietly then and he lifted his head, his heart pounding.

"Apparently I'm your brother," he told him and he stared at him.

"Funny," Aegon said, trying his best to snort dismissively.

"Not really," Jon shook his head, "I wish I didn't know …"

"Know what?" he narrowed his eyes at him.

"My name is Jon Snow," Jon told him, swallowing hard.

"A bastard's name," Aegon said and he nodded.

"I was raised at Winterfell believing Eddard Stark was my father," he told him.

"He's not?" Aegon guessed and Jon shook his head, Gods it still twisted like a knife.

"He's my uncle … my mother was Lyanna Stark and my father …" he trailed off with a shrug.

"My father …" Aegon breathed.

"Apparently so," Jon muttered.

"You're my brother …" Aegon almost laughed, his head spinning.

Of all the places in all of the North than Jon could have stumbled to in his drunken state he had stumbled here. Right into the heart of Aegon's camp and he couldn't believe it. Part of him didn't. He had a brother? It was mad to even think it. He was raised knowing he had an aunt and an uncle and that was it. That was enough, Griff had always assured him that so long as there were three of them then it would be alright. There had to be three. Then Viserys had been killed and Aegon had to push back his disappointment, trying not to raise his hopes up too high when it came to Daenerys. What if something happened to her too? Now this man … this man who looked nothing like him … now he was saying that he was his brother. It was madness, it was just … too much. He locked eyes with Jon then and something inside him told him that he was telling the truth. He wondered if Jon believed him, his story was incredulous he knew that … but it was true and he needed Jon to believe it.

"Wine?" he finally said.

"I should say no …" Jon said, a slight smile twitching at his lips.

"I think in this instance it's necessary," Aegon said, a ghost of a smile on his own face.

"I suppose," Jon agreed as Aegon moved to un-stopper a bottle and pour two measures.

"Here," Aegon handed him a glass, "to … surprises …"

"Surprises," Jon echoed and the clinked glasses before taking a long drink.

"Earlier … when you mentioned Dany, did you mean Daenerys?" Aegon asked after a moment.

"Yes," Jon nodded.

"You grew up with her?" he checked and Jon nodded again, seeing the almost longing look on Aegon's face and pitying him despite himself.

"It must have been very different for you," Jon commented.

"It was," Aegon agreed, "I spent most of my life on a boat pretending to be a bastard with blue hair"

"Blue hair?" Jon grinned before he could stop himself.

"Blue hair," Aegon confirmed dryly before taking another long drink of wine.

"Gods … this is madness …" Jon breathed.

"I'm inclined to agree," Aegon smiled, "why did you leave Winterfell?"

"I found out the truth," Jon said.

"And that meant you had to leave?" he frowned.

"I ran away," Jon confessed, "and I know they'll be worried and I should at least write but … but they lied to me my whole life"

"There must have been a reason …" Aegon tried.

"To keep me safe from the King … but why not tell me when I was old enough?" Jon questioned.

"Why change something that doesn't need to be changed?" he countered.

"It's changed everything," Jon said sadly.

"You can always go back," Aegon said quietly.

"I did something … before I left … I did things I wasn't proud of," Jon admitted.

"Like what?" he asked him.

"I attacked my brother … although … he's not really my brother anymore," Jon sighed.

"If he's your brother he will forgive you," Aegon said.

"I know Robb will forgive me … but some things cannot be fixed," he said, finding it so easy to unburden himself to this stranger who might be his brother.

"Like what?" Aegon repeated, frowning slightly.

"I took a girl … an innocent girl, I was drunk and I took advantage of her, I knew she liked me … I knew she would let me so I … I took her …" Jon confessed.

"But you didn't force her?" Aegon said gently.

"No," he shook his head, "I would never have … but she was just a girl and I've ruined her, I ruined her to make myself feel better"

"Jon, you are neither the first nor the last man to get drunk and take a woman to his bed," Aegon assured him.

"She was too good for that," he shook his head again.

"Do you love her?" Aegon asked him.

"No," Jon snorted slightly, "that's the worst part"

"There are worse men in the world than you I can assure you of that," he smiled.

"Thank you," Jon almost smiled back.

"Can I ask you to do something for me Jon?" Aegon asked then.

"What do you want?" Jon returned suspiciously.

"I want to meet my aunt … and I want to meet with Lord Stark … that's why I'm here in the North, I dare not come upon Winterfell in case they think I'm launching an attack. We have been here a week now trying to come up with some way to get him to come and meet us and … well, now you've stumbled into the camp …" Aegon tailed off, raising his brows.

"You want me to be bait?" Jon questioned him.

"No … no of course not, you're free to leave at any time but … but I would really appreciate it if you sent a letter to Lord Stark," he said, meeting his eyes.

"Alright," Jon said after a long moment, "I'll write to him."

* * *

><p><em>Dragonstone<em>

* * *

><p>Stannis was in a bad mood. The Stormlands, who he had expected to come over to him after Renly's death, had largely disappointed him. Some of the lesser houses had come over to him but many had gone over to the Lannister's, lured by Tywin's gold no doubt. Some had decided to declare for no one and Stannis had to try and persuade them over to his side somehow. If only he had more children. He only had Shireen, one daughter who was only eleven years old and by no means a catch. She would be twelve soon enough and Selyse seemed hopeful that she would flower early. He would have to pick the right match for her though, he had to pick carefully because he only had one chance. He needed to wed her into a powerful family that would show the Stormlands and the rest of the Kingdom's just how serious he was. The Stark's swam into his head then but he pushed the thought away. That ship had quite literally sailed.<p>

"My King?" Melisandre's voice sounded behind him, perhaps she could think of something.

"What is it?" he snapped at her.

"I have been consulting the flames," she said and he sighed, turning to face her.

"What have you seen?" he asked, his voice calmer now.

"The rose of Highgarden," she told him and he frowned.

"They're on the way to the Capitol," he said.

"There is word that they have turned back, with Joffrey's demise the idea of marrying their daughter to a mere boy may be unappealing to them," she told him.

"Perhaps …" he said distractedly, his mind racing.

Mace Tyrell's heir was unmarried, unmarried and a cripple. He was in his mid-twenties, more than double Shireen's age but stranger matches had been made, Walder Frey had just married some fifteen year old Erenford girl. With him being a cripple Mace could hardly turn his nose up at Shireen's greyscale, especially when his son may one day sit the Iron Throne. Yes … it could work … if they weren't declared for Tommen then perhaps they would declare for him …

"Highgarden," he said.

"My King?" Melisandre frowned slightly.

"With Highgarden on my side not even Tywin Lannister will be able to stop me," he almost smiled.

"You're right of course," she said silkily.

"A betrothal … yes, this is just what I have been waiting for!" he burst out.

"I'm pleased to see you so happy," she smiled.

"I'm not happy … not yet," he shook his head, "but I will be … I will be once the Tyrell's are mine."

* * *

><p><em>Highgarden<em>

* * *

><p>"Not in the seven hells," Loras snarled.<p>

"He may be our only hope … if we approach him … perhaps …" Mace reasoned.

"He killed Renly!" Loras snapped.

"With Margaery missing we have no tool to bargain with, and nothing to gain from supporting the Lannister's. If we approach Stannis however, an arrangement could be made," Olena said.

"Have you lost your minds?" Loras said incredulously, this would be funny if it wasn't so ridiculous.

"He has a daughter, and I have sons," Mace said.

"You would be closest to her age Loras," Olena nodded to him.

"Madness," he muttered, shaking his head from side to side.

"But then Stannis isn't likely to be content with a third son," Olena sniffed.

"He's in no position to be choosy, the North still hasn't declared for him although everyone was certain they would have, he will be crying out for the numbers we can give him," Mace argued.

"But he may yet have a son," Olena said.

"Selyse Florent will not bear him any more children, not at her age," Mace scoffed.

"No _she _won't," she agreed, "but another woman could … and if such a thing were to happen Stannis would want his daughter's future secured"

"If he wins this she will be a Princess, what more does he want?!" he demanded.

"I think you need to face the reality that _if _he were to consider our offer he will want the heir … not the spare," she said, inclining her head to Loras.

"You're all fucking mad," Loras said, shaking his head, "thank the Gods Margaery got out when she did, you would be marrying her to Stannis next, marrying her to the man that murdered her husband! Can't you see how twisted this is?!"

"Enough Loras," Olena snapped, "this is war, there is no room for sentimentality when all our lives hang in the balance! You have done enough damage already, concealing Margaery's departure from us, don't think I have given up on getting the truth from you! We will do what we must to ensure our family's survival and if that means allying with Stannis then that is what we will do!"

* * *

><p><em>King's Landing<em>

* * *

><p>Jaime could taste the wine on her as she attacked his mouth. Part of him knew she was doing this because she was drunk but the larger part of him didn't care because it seemed as though it had been forever since he had had her like this. Since the arrival of their father Cersei had become more and more erratic in her behaviour. Ferociously protective of Tommen and Myrcella and ferociously drunk the rest of the time. Sometimes he barely recognised her, the woman who had been part of him for his whole life. The woman who completed him, made him whole. She had been fading away right before his eyes and he wanted her to remind him right now that she was still alive. He needed her. He needed the real her to come back and make him whole again. Jaime groaned out against her mouth then as she tugged on his laces, his hands pulling up her skirts as he backed her into her vanity.<p>

Something crashed to the floor then but neither of them broke their stride. Whatever it was could be replaced but this, _this _thing between them could never be replaced. He stepped between her legs then as she propped herself up against the vanity, steadying herself as she wrapped her legs around his waist. This was reckless but she didn't care. She didn't care about anything anymore. She just wanted Jaime to make her feel. She wanted him inside her, completing her and reminding her that she could still _feel. _She needed to be able to _feel. _

He was close, so close to her now. In the next instant they would join together and everything will be alright. She voiced that then, chanting it over and over as his lips ravished her neck, his hands coming to her bodice, wanting to touch more of her. She was almost begging him then, begging him to take that final step and entwine their bodies completely.

It didn't feel real when the door opened.

It looked like a dream.

More like a nightmare.

His expression darkened at once. His already cold eyes practically freezing in his head as they froze in their actions. Never had she seen fury like it. Not when she pushed Robert to the very brink and he snapped, slapping his hand across her cheek so hard that she collapsed to the floor. Not even when Jaime had jumped off those cliffs and she had told on him. Their father's eyes had flashed with rage then but it was nothing compared to the look in them now.

He knew.

Gods he knew.

He had caught them.

All this time they had managed to keep it from him, from everyone, but now it seemed as though the whole of the Kingdom's knew their secret and the only people still pretending were them. Oh Gods, what would he do? Would he send her away? Send Jaime away? Kill her? Kill him? Oh Gods, oh Gods, oh Gods.

"Get dressed," he finally spoke, the viciousness of his tone making her wince.

Jaime stepped away, righting his breeches and avoiding her gaze. She tugged her skirts down and fought the almost overwhelming urge to blush as she did everything in her power to avoid looking at Jaime or her father. The tension that filled the room was enough to almost choke her. Perhaps her father would do that. Perhaps he would squeeze the life out of her himself. The children. Oh Gods, what about Tommen and Myrcella? Surely he wouldn't say anything … surely? Tommen was King, surely her father would never reveal this, not now when he was Hand and could control every decision her sweet little boy made.

"Tommen is going to give you permission to leave the Kingsguard," Tywin spoke then, his voice calm and controlled.

Cersei swallowed hard, her mind racing as she tried to think about what would come next. Jaime was being forced to leave the Kingsguard. What would be her punishment? She closed her eyes and prayed to the Gods that it wouldn't involve her being separated from her babies.

"You will return to Casterly Rock, it is high time you took responsibility there, you are my son and heir after all," he continued.

"Father …" Jaime started, not even sure what he would even say next.

"We will also see about finding a wife for you, it's high time you stopped wasting your years here and settled down," he went on, giving no indication he had heard his son.

"As you wish," Jaime swallowed hard and Cersei stared at him.

No. No. He couldn't just accept it. Leave the Capitol. Leave her. No. No. What was he doing? Why wasn't he fighting for her?

"You leave at the end of the week," Tywin said, "now I think it high time you let your sister retire, it's late … come; we must discuss Casterly Rock"

Jaime obediently followed him out, avoiding Cersei's gaze as she stared after him. Of all the things she had not expected this. She had expected rage. Arguments. Pleas. Not this. Not her father's outright denial and not Jaime's spinelessness. He had once promised that he would kill everyone and anyone to keep her and now he had just willingly walked away from her. How could he do it to her? How could he walk away so easily?

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Be gentle ... please ...

More Friday!

:)


	26. Finally

**A/N: **So we're staying in Winterfell for this chapter and from the title you might be able to guess why! Hope you all enjoy it and dropping a review and sharing your thoughts would be awesome.

**Guest:** Thank you! I've never really brought Aegon into any of my fics before but I thought I'd give it a try this time, glad you're liking him so far. I won't reveal what's going to happen with his love life but I can promise you one hundred percent that he will not be paired with Arya. Thought never even crossed my mind. Don't worry, I've read longer rants and yours was rather friendly and positive! Also your English is just fine, I would never have guessed you're not a native speaker, my writing is far worse when I do it on my phone/tablet!

Right, on with the chapter!

:)

* * *

><p><strong>Finally<strong>

* * *

><p><em>Winterfell<em>

* * *

><p>Ned read the letter through twice as he stood there in the entrance hall, only looking up when there was a shout from above him. Dany was coming down the stairs, he barely had a moment to register how lovely she looked in her wedding gown before Catelyn was racing down, her eyes on the door. He moved his own eyes then and saw Bran and Arya stood in the doorway with their wolves beside them, Jory stood back a little with a young man at his side that Ned recognised as Robert's bastard Gendry from the smiths at the Capitol. For a second he was frozen but Catelyn darting to them and crushing them both into her arms had him moving towards them, stuffing the letter into his doublet as he waited for his wife to release the children.<p>

"Thank the Gods!" she exclaimed when she pulled back, "thank the Gods for you … thank you …"

"Let them breathe Cat," Ned chuckled and she moved back slightly so he could embrace them both.

"Are you alright?" he asked them seriously.

"We're alright," Arya promised him.

"Both of you? Truly?" he checked, looking between her and Bran.

"Truly," Bran nodded, "Jory is the only one who got hurt"

"Thank you," Ned turned his eyes to his loyal guard and friend then and Jory nodded.

"I'm only sorry I couldn't bring the Lady Sansa as well," he said regretfully.

"What happened?" Catelyn asked him as Dany descended the rest of the stairs and proceeded to greet the children.

"She got away from me when I was saddling the horses, I'm sorry my Lady, I looked everywhere I could think of for her," Jory told her and she nodded.

"Gendry isn't it?" Ned said then, his eyes moving to the man at Jory's side.

"Aye … I mean … yes my Lord," Gendry bowed shortly.

"He joined us on the road, thought we might have use of a smith," Jory explained.

"Aye, we might," Ned smiled.

"Thank you my Lord," Gendry said, bowing again.

"You're all just in time," Ned said then, turning to look at Bran and Arya.

"In time for what?" Arya questioned.

"Do you want to tell them Dany?" Ned asked her and she beamed.

"Robb and I are getting married," she told them.

"Now?!" Bran asked.

"Today?!" Arya burst out.

"Yes," Dany confirmed, nodding her head happily, her smile stretched wide.

"Take them out to the Godswood Cat, Dany and I will follow on in a while, give Robb a chance to see them first," Ned said then.

"Come on," Catelyn held her hands out and they took one each, not complaining that their mother wanted them close, both thrilled at having her comforting presence at their side again.

"Would you come Jory?" Dany asked then.

"Is Loral there? And the children?" he asked her in return.

"They are all there," she confirmed and he beamed at her.

"Then I best follow after Lady Stark … congratulations my Lady," be bowed shortly.

"Thank you," she beamed back before he turned and hurried back out into the courtyard.

"How about a quick drink? Give them chance to greet one another," Ned suggested.

"That sounds good," Dany nodded, smoothing the front of her dress and following him into the solar.

Ned was very much aware of the letter shoved down his doublet as he poured himself and Dany some of the good wine that he knew she favoured. The Gods help Robb when they became Lord and Lady of Winterfell, she would bankrupt him with her expensive taste if he allowed her to. She thanked him with a beaming smile when he handed her a glass and he raised a toast to her health before they both took a drink. He could tell she was nervous as her hand shook slightly but he also knew that he overwhelming emotion was happiness. He himself was almost brimming with it, thrilled that Bran and Arya were home safely and bursting with pride that Robb would soon be married to a woman he loved. Sansa being missing stabbed hard at him though and now this letter was needling away at him. On the plus side at least now he knew that Jon was alive and well and not dead in a ditch somewhere. What was needling him was knowing where he was. Aegon Targaryen. Surely not. Surely it was a pretender. It was preposterous. Aegon was dead, murdered as a babe. The killing of him and his mother and sister had disgusted Ned, the thought that one of them could have survived had never crossed his mind.

He looked at Dany then, every inch the Targaryen. He thought of what Jon had written, describing 'Aegon', the description matching Dany perfectly. What were the chances of that? Jon seemed at least partially convinced but Ned was wary of his judgement. Perhaps it was just wishful thinking on Jon's part. In his mind he had recently lost all his brothers and sisters. In his turmoil could it not be possible that he was latching onto this idea of Aegon because he was desperate to have a family again? Desperate for a true brother. Ned sighed then. Whoever this was, Aegon or not, he could wait until tomorrow. Today was Robb and Dany's day and a day for Ned to spend with the family he had with him. This letter could wait until tomorrow. He would let his son have his perfect day, knowing he had been waiting so long for it.

"Shall we?" he asked Dany then, holding his hand out.

"Let's," she agreed with a smile, taking his hand and rising gracefully to her feet.

* * *

><p>Robb couldn't keep the smile from his face as he stood waiting before the heart tree, his eyes barely registering the Septon nor anyone else in the Godswood, his mind just focused on her. Knowing that she would soon be entering the Godswood on the arm of his father and knowing that when they left again she would be his forever. His eyes caught Bran and Arya stood with Rickon and his mother then and his smile widened still further, so happy that they were here to witness this; that they had got back in time. He felt a slight pang then for Jon and Sansa, wishing that they were here too but his thoughts were soon taken over by Dany as she and his father rounded the corner. She looked so beautiful he could hardly believe she was real. He memorized her image then as she came slowly towards him, the trailing skirts of her white gown flowing fluidly behind her. The bodice was cut just low enough to catch Robb's full attention, his eyes drawn to the curves of her, barely registering the intricately embroidered violet and silver flowers that were sewn into the bodice of her dress.<p>

He held his hand out for her as his father brought her right to him, nodding to him and bestowing a proud smile on him as he took Dany's hand. His father stepped back then and he squeezed his hand around Dany's, feeling her return the pressure, her eyes bright as she smiled up at him. Part of him didn't quite believe that this was real, that in just a few short minutes she would be his. He gazed down on her, wanting to savour this perfect moment for just another few precious seconds. The Septon roused his attention then by clearing his throat quietly and Robb and Dany inclined their heads a fraction to one another before they began their vows.

Theon glanced at Adele as Robb and Dany recited the vows that they themselves had said only a few weeks ago but she wasn't looking at him. She wasn't even looking at them, she was looking towards her father and Theon could see that Ser Ralf was purposefully avoiding her gaze. He sighed heavily, knowing that Adele would more than likely end up in tears again by the end of the day. The more days that went by without her father speaking to her, the more upset she got and he had no clue at all how he was supposed to comfort her. Robb was sliding the ring onto Dany's finger then and Theon let his hand find Adele's, somewhat reassured when she laced her fingers with his and squeezed lightly. He had to admit that he had been worried at first that she would blame him and regret their marriage but thankfully her love for him hadn't faltered. The Gods know what he would have done if it had. He had to drop her hand then so they could applaud the newly married couple and Theon smiled happily, so pleased that his friends had managed to get to this point when only months ago it had seemed impossible.

Robb leant in to kiss his new wife as the claps and cheers rang through the Godswood. _His wife. _Just thinking the words made him giddy as he kissed her softly for a long moment. He longed to deepen the kiss and let all his desire for her take him over but now was not the time and he regretfully pulled away from her and smiled widely. Dany returned his smile, a look of something akin to triumph in her eyes as she gazed up at him. There were calls from one or more people then to head inside for the feast and Robb held his arm out for her, feeling the familiar pressure of her hand in the crook of his elbow after a moment. He let out a long sigh of satisfaction then as they ambled leisurely with the others back towards the keep. Finally. _Finally. _She was his.

* * *

><p>Dany could barely manage more than a few bites of the sumptuous feast. Everything was so delicious and ordinarily she would have eaten everything but right now her stomach was fluttering with nerves, her eyes darting to the door every now and again, knowing that she and Robb would soon be leaving through them and retiring to bed. Lord Stark had banned the bedding ceremony which she was glad of but she couldn't stop her racing heart and churning stomach. Lady Stark had told her what to expect from the wedding night and she knew there would be pain. She had been assured that it would pass though and she had no reason to doubt her good-mother. She swallowed rather hard then before glancing at Robb, her husband. A smile spread across her face then for a moment before she turned her attention back to her plate, determined to eat some more. Part of her could still not believe that she was sat here in the seats of honour next to Robb at their wedding feast. It seemed impossible. She had dreamed of this moment for so long but not once did she ever think that it was likely to come true. His hand came to rest on hers then and she turned to look into his piercing blue eyes.<p>

"Are you alright?" he asked her in slight concern.

"Of course, what could possibly be wrong?" she asked him in return.

"You've not eaten much," he stated.

"I'm fine," she stressed.

"I'm nervous too," he said lowly, brushing his thumb across the back of her hand.

"Truly?" she asked, forgetting her pretence.

"Truly," he confirmed with a smile that she returned easily.

She picked up her knife and fork again then and found that eating had suddenly become a lot easier. Robb watched her for a moment with a smile playing about his lips before he picked up his glass and took a drink of wine. People around him were finishing their meals now and rising up to dance and drink and chatter happily together. He saw Loral and Jory slipping away after a few moments and he smiled again, he was glad that Jory was back, perhaps now Dany could stop being so worried about Loral and her children. It was selfish of him but he wanted her all to himself for a little while because while the North was managing to stay out of the war in the south for now he knew that this situation would not last forever. At some point they would be dragged into the conflict whether they liked it or not and Robb knew that that meant him marching to war with the others. He shook his head slightly at his macabre thoughts and looked back to Dany, seeing that she had finally finished her meal. He pushed his troubling thoughts away then and stood, offering her his hand which she took gladly, leading her down from the high table so they could join the other dancers.

* * *

><p>Theon sighed heavily as Adele drained her third glass of wine. Getting her home without causing a scene would be near impossible, she was not what could be described as a cooperative drunk, especially when she was drinking wine. She was pouring another glass then, her eyes fixed on her father as she filled it to the brim. Theon had been hoping that they would get caught up in the jubilation of the day but everyone being so happy around her had seemingly only served to make Adele even more miserable.<p>

"Maybe we should go," he suggested hopefully.

"Wouldn't it be rude to leave before the bride and groom?" she returned, raising her glass to her lips.

"If we're staying perhaps you should slow down," he said pointedly.

"It's a wedding Theon … we are supposed to eat, drink and be merry," she said.

"Well you're certainly drinking," he muttered under his breath.

"What?!" she snapped at him.

"It's a wedding," he repeated her own words, tugging the glass from her hands; "Robb and Dany's wedding, today is not about you so can you please just stop it, I won't have you causing a scene and ruining this for them"

She stared at him for a moment and he steeled himself, thinking that he may well have pushed her too far. To his surprise she said nothing, turning her attention back to the spread of food and drink in front of them and reaching for a jug of water. He breathed a sigh of relief as she filled a glass and began sipping it down slowly. He set her wine down far out of her reach then as she set down her water and took a deep breath.

"Sorry," she said quietly.

"It's alright," he smiled, placing his hand over hers.

"Not here," she said, tugging her hand from beneath his.

"You're my wife Adele, everyone knows it now; can I not even take your hand?" he asked her.

"I don't want to make it worse," she hissed at him.

"It can't get any worse," he sighed, "the best thing to do is carry on as we usually would, it's the only way he will get used to it"

"What if he never gets used to it?" she questioned him.

"Look at me," he said and she did as she was told; "if he thinks you're miserable with me then it will only turn him further against our marriage"

"I'm not miserable with you," she promised him and he smiled, reaching up to stroke a hand down her cheek.

"I know," he breathed, "but can you not see how it looks to others when you cringe away from me in public?"

"I know," she whispered, "I just don't want to make it worse by parading our happiness"

"Your father needs to see that we love one another, he has to get used to this because it is done now and there is no undoing it," he said firmly.

"I don't want to undo it," she said and a smile tugged at his lips again.

"I'm stuck with you then," he sighed in mock exasperation and she managed a small laugh.

"I love you," she said after a moment.

"I love you too," he said, hesitating for a moment before leaning in to lightly brush his lips across hers.

* * *

><p>When the song ended Dany looked up to meet Robb's eyes and she knew at once that they would not be staying for another dance. Her stomach clenched then as he stepped slightly away from her and laced his fingers through hers before leading her away from the celebrations and out into the hallway. She took a deep breath then and she felt him squeeze her hand lightly as they made their way towards the stairs. Robb's own heart was pounding as he led her up to his room, <em>their <em>room it was now he remembered with a jolt. He would never have to sleep without her by his side again and the thought of wrapping his body around hers and holding her as they drifted off to sleep made him happier than he could comprehend. He swallowed hard then as they reached his door, taking a breath before he pushed it open and led her inside. She had been in here on countless other occasions but never like this. He had never thought she would ever be in here like this no matter how many times he had dreamt about it.

"Wine?" he asked her nervously and she nodded her head.

"Please," she said, clearing her throat slightly.

"I feel so …" he struggled with the right words.

"Awkward?" she supplied and he shrugged; "strange?" she suggested then and he smiled.

"I just never thought we'd ever be here," he confessed, handing her the wine.

"Neither did I," she smiled, "but here we are …"

"Here we are," he agreed, raising his glass to her, "to us"

"To us," she echoed and they clinked glasses before both taking a sip.

"I don't really want this," he said, setting his aside.

"Neither do I," she whispered, setting her own glass aside and meeting his eyes.

They both seemed to move as one then, stepping closer to one another, their lips seeking out one another's, hands going for the lacings of one another's clothing. Robb deepened their kiss, pulling her even closer to him as he pulled on the ties at the back of her dress, feeling a sense of triumph as he blindly managed to loosen them. Dany's own hands had already pulled his doublet open and she was tugging the lacings of his shirt, her hands finding his bare skin and making him shudder with want. When her lacings were undone he regretfully pulled out of their kiss, both of them breathing hard, the atmosphere thick with anticipation as his hands moved to her shoulders to slide her dress away. She was wearing a thin silk shift underneath and he could make out the perfect roundness of her breasts through the material. His breeches felt so tight then as she stepped towards him, her hands pulling his doublet away before sneaking down his chest to tug up his shirt and pull it up over his head. She swallowed then, slowly letting her hands roam across his chest, her fingertips swirling patterns in his hair. He breathed deeply then and she let her eyes wander downwards, seeing that he was already swelled with desire.

Dany took a deep breath of her own then before she let her hands wander slowly down his chest and stomach, her fingers coming to toy with his lacings. He inhaled sharply then and she let her hands unthread him, amazed that they didn't shake. It took everything Robb had not to grab her and throw her down on the bed then as she freed his length. Her soft fingertips gently brushed down his hardness then and he had to supress a groan, his own hands coming to her hips to guide her towards the bed. She pushed his breeches further down his hips as they went before her hands came wandering back up to his shoulders, encouraging him to sit. Robb did as she wanted, regretfully tearing his eyes from her so he could pull off his boots and kick his breeches away. He didn't want any barriers between them, he wanted every inch of him to cover every inch of her. She took another deep, settling breath then before she hooked her own fingers under the straps of her shift and slid it from her shoulders. The material fell to the floor, pooling at her feet and she somehow managed to lift her eyes back to Robb.

His eyes were wide as he took all of her in. How many times had he imagined her stood bare before him? In his wildest fantasies she had never looked this good. Every fibre of his being was screaming for her then and he slowly reached out a hand to settle on her hip, gently rubbing up and down her smooth skin and urging her towards him. She was so close now that if he tilted his head up he would be able to kiss those firm breasts. Before he could act on that though she placed her hands on his shoulders, her knees coming to rest on the bed as she slowly eased herself into his lap. He couldn't help the sharp intake of breath then as he felt her pressed up against him, feeling her desire against his own. He leant closer then, brushing his lips across her neck, hearing her sigh softly as he did so. One hand he kept on her hip, the other he wandered slowly up her side until he could cup her breast. Her breath came sharply then and she leaned in closer, her movement making him surer in his own as he tenderly massaged her breast, his lips still kissing across her neck and up towards her jaw.

Dany fisted her own hands in his hair and pressed herself still closer, his hand at her breast wandering down to settle on her other hip then, lifting her slightly so his hardness teased at her. She couldn't help the little gasp of surprise and the way her hands clenched tighter in his hair as she felt him up against her. Slowly he encouraged her to circle her hips, his length pushing slowly into her as her body relaxed. She seemed to hold her breath then, feeling his own ragged against her neck as he slowly pulled her down onto him, feeling the sudden sting of him taking her innocence, his fingertips digging into her hips for a second. Robb was kissing her neck again then, his hands rubbing gently up and down her back as she took some steadying breaths, getting used to the feeling of him filling her completely. She pulled his head up then and claimed his lips with her own, their tongues twisting together so deliciously; her stomach tightening in knots that were not altogether unpleasant. As she continued to kiss him she tentatively moved her hips back and forth, feeling him groan into her mouth. She moved again, encouraged by his reaction and his hands came back down to her hips to encourage her motion.

The more she moved the better it felt and soon she head to tear her lips from Robb's because she was struggling for breath. He revelled in the sharp little cries that left her mouth then each time she rocked her hips into him. She felt so good surrounding him and knowing she was feeling the pleasure too made him desire her even more. He could never get enough of her, never. He told her that then, mumbling it breathlessly against her skin, tasting the slight tang of her as beads of sweat began to form across her collarbone. He kissed his way down then, letting his tongue lap them up, her back arching into him and a moan escaping her as his lips found her breast. Gods everything he did to her felt so good and she could feel herself losing control, her hips rocking faster and coaxing a growl of appreciation from Robb as his mouth continued teasing at her breast. His fingers pressed further into the skin of her hips then as he felt her warmth closing in around him. Breathless cries left her then as she moved, the knots in her stomach so tight she thought she would explode. In the next second it all came undone and she moaned out in relief and pleasure, every pore of her seemingly tingling as she mumbled Robb's name over and over.

Her own end pushed him to his, only needing her to rock into him a few moments more before he finally peaked, spilling himself deep inside her with a groan, her head dropping to his shoulder as they both fought for breath. He could feel her warm breath against his neck as she slowly came down from her height, his own breathing ragged as he pressed her as close to him as he could, feeling her hands settle on his back as his traced up and down her spine. It felt so good holding her like this, being so close to her, being joined with her completely. It felt so right, like it had always been meant to be. After a time he slowly and carefully shifted them back further onto the bed, slipping from her warmth regretfully as he did so. He lay down, placing his hands on her hips to encourage her off him, rolling onto his side when she came to lay next to him and smiling lazily at her. She smiled back, her chest still rising and falling more rapidly than normal as his eyes slowly wandered the length of her body. Her hand came to stroke down his cheek then and he exhaled in satisfaction before turning his eyes back to hers.

"Did I hurt you?" he asked her.

"Only for a moment," she answered him and he turned his head to kiss at her palm.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"You're forgiven," she smiled, "you more than made up for it"

"What are we to do now?" he murmured.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"I'm not sure how I am ever going to be able to let you leave this bed," he told her and she giggled.

"We have all night," she said, raising her brows.

"That," he said, shifting himself above her, "is very true"

"I love you Robb," she told him, meeting his eyes as he nestled between her legs.

"I love you too," he breathed as she wrapped her legs around his waist, "I love you so much."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Thought I'd devote a whole chapter to some happiness before I really kick off the drama! Hope you enjoyed, will likely get another one up for you all on Monday!

:)


	27. Destinations

**A/N: **A fair bit going on in this chapter! Hope you guys all enjoy it and I would love your thoughts as always!

Thank you all so much for reading!

:)

* * *

><p><strong>Destinations <strong>

* * *

><p><em>Winterfell<em>

* * *

><p>"Absolutely not, there is no way I'm letting you come!" he shouted.<p>

"You don't get to decide that!" she screamed back.

"Yes I do! I'm your husband!" he roared.

"I swear to the Gods if you forbid me I will never forgive you!" she snarled at him.

Robb folded his arms then and Dany did the same and they glared at one another, neither one seeming willing to back down on this. Ned looked at Catelyn then and saw her worrying at her lip. He had expected a strong reaction to Jon's letter, what he hadn't expected was the explosion that followed. Dany had said at once that she wanted to come with them to see this Aegon with her own eyes, she wanted to know if he was real because he would be her family. Robb refused, Ned could tell that he didn't believe this tale for a moment and he didn't want Dany disappointed if they discovered he was just a pretender. Instead of calmly explaining his refusal though he had flat out forbidden her and Ned had seen the explosion coming in her eyes. Married less than a day. This can't have been what either of them had expected.

"Perhaps we should sit down and discuss this properly," Catelyn suggested.

"There's nothing to discuss," Robb said dismissively.

"No, there isn't," Dany agreed with him, shooting him a dark look.

"Clearly there is," she said more sharply, "now sit down!"

They did as they were told then, dropping into chairs on opposite sides of the room and firmly ignoring one another. Ned sent a grateful look to his wife then and she rolled her eyes and sent him an exasperated look before taking a seat of her own. He sat with a heavy sigh then and looked between his son and his good-daughter. He didn't want to have to take sides, to undermine Robb and pull rank as Lord of Winterfell, but if he didn't his son's marriage could be over before it truly began because he had no doubt that Dany meant it when she said she would never forgive him.

"As Lord of Winterfell," he started and Robb snapped his head to him, his eyes showing his betrayal and Ned knew he knew what he was about to say; "I think Dany has a right to come with us, she's right … this man could be her kin and she deserves the chance to see him with her own eyes so that she knows for sure …"

"It's too dangerous," Robb shook his head, "what if this is just some trap?"

"The letter is written in Jon's hand," Ned reasoned.

"He could have written it under duress!" Robb snapped.

"I don't think so," Ned shook his own head now, "there is no hint of a shake in his writing"

"Does Jon seriously believe this?" Robb asked incredulously.

"I think so," Ned nodded.

"But it's utterly ridiculous!" he burst out.

"Jon would know better than you, since he's actually met him," Dany shot at him and he glared at her.

"None of us know anything," Ned soothed, "and we won't know until we meet with him, so the sooner we leave the better"

"How many men?" Robb asked.

"We'll take all the men left to us and leave a thousand to help the watch," Ned said.

"Will that be enough?" Catelyn asked.

"Lord Bolton has more men at the Dreadfort, I will ask him for them but there should be enough here to protect you should any threat come," he assured her and she nodded.

Robb muttered something that sounded like 'pointless' under his breath then and Ned sighed heavily. Ordinarily he would chastise him for his surliness but he felt like he had humiliated him enough for one day and so he stood to leave, inclining his head for Catelyn to follow him. He had half a mind to lock Dany and Robb in there but he restrained himself, closing the door behind them. Catelyn raised her brows at him then and they both paused for a moment, hearing nothing from within the room to suggest any argument had flared up again. His wife took his arm then as they walked away, both of them hoping that Dany and Robb would reach some kind of understanding.

* * *

><p>Robb expected her to have a look of smug satisfaction on her face when he finally lifted his eyes to look at her but she was staring blankly towards the window and chewing distractedly on her bottom lip. She looked troubled and he sighed in defeat. His father had overruled him so it was pointless them continuing this argument. He still thought it unlikely that this man was truly Aegon Targaryen but he pushed his misgivings aside, voicing them would only wind Dany up even more. They had been married less than a day and had already resorted to screaming at one another. This morning they hadn't been able to keep their hands off one another as they had laughed and teased at one another under the covers. Damn it all. He couldn't stand this.<p>

"I'm sorry I lost my temper," he said and she turned her eyes to him.

"I know it's your right as my husband but I hated you forbidding me like that," she said.

"I know," he said softly, "I wasn't doing it to be cruel … I just want to protect you"

"I know that," she nodded, "but … but whether he is Aegon or not I _need _to see him"

"You will," he said slightly bitterly.

"What's bothering you so much about him?" she asked with a frown.

"I just can't get my head around it," he shrugged, avoiding her gaze.

"There's something else," she stated.

"There's nothing," he shook his head.

"Don't lie to me, you can't lie to me … you never could," she said sharply.

"I'm worried about Jon," he said and she sighed.

"He's fine … you'll see that for yourself soon enough," she soothed.

"I suppose," he muttered and she stood up to leave, pausing at his side and laying a hand on his shoulder.

"You're holding something back Robb Stark," she said quietly, "and so help me I will get it out of you eventually," she promised, squeezing his shoulder before continuing out of the room.

* * *

><p><em>The Wall<em>

* * *

><p>Benjen staggered slightly under Erik's weight as the tunnel slowly began to reveal itself, the familiar clank of the mechanism almost bringing a smile to his face. He could scarce believe that they had made it back. His heart stabbed with guilt then, only three of them had made it back and he had taken a party of thirty. He shifted Erik then and sent a grim look to Gren who was propping him up on the other side. If the tunnel didn't open up soon then it might be that only two of them made it back to Castle Black. Erik's wound had gone bad and he was in desperate need of proper care or Benjen was almost certain that he would lose his arm, if not his life. After what seemed like an age the doors raised high enough for them to duck under them and he and Gren supported Erik down the tunnel, their staggered footsteps echoing loudly around the cavernous space. Once they came through the other side brothers descended on them at once, all exclaiming and asking him what they had found, why so few of them had returned.<p>

"Enough," Benjen snapped, "You will all find out soon enough after I have spoken to the Lord Commander, make sure he is taken straight to the Maester. Tell him that he has a wound on his right arm that has festered. He has had a fever on and off for the last four days."

"I'll make sure he's told," Gren promised him as another brother came forward to take Benjen's place in supporting him.

Satisfied that he would be taken care of Benjen set off at once towards the Lord Commander's quarters, wondering what the Old Bear's reaction would be to all of this. As he reached the top of the steps the man himself was wrenching open the door of his rooms with a hard look on his face that softened slightly when he caught sight of Benjen.

"Thought you might be back, heard a commotion," he greeted.

"Here I am," Benjen said wearily.

"You look like you could use a drink, come," the Old Bear said, turning and stamping back into his rooms.

Benjen sat heavily once inside and the Lord Commander looked at him searchingly as he went about pouring two large flagons of ale. They clanked the metal together once the Old Bear had handed Benjen his drink and he took a small gulp before watching the man before him drink down most of it in one go.

"How many did you come back with?" he asked him when he finally lowered his flagon.

"Two," Benjen said before wiping his sleeve across his mouth.

"Right …" he nodded.

"Erik's injured bad though … we burned the others," Benjen told him.

"What happened?" the Old Bear questioned.

"Set on by a group of wildlings, our own fault … we risked a fire," Benjen said.

"Sometimes it goes unnoticed, sometimes it doesn't," he shrugged.

"Aye," Benjen agreed before draining the last of his ale.

"Did you get answers?" the Old Bear asked him then and he sighed heavily.

"More than I bargained for," he admitted.

"Well?" the Old Bear pressed him.

"Do you want the bad news or the _bad _news?" Benjen asked him in return.

"The bad first," he almost smiled.

"The walkers … the tales are true," Benjen told him.

"The Gods help us all … are you certain?" the Old Bear asked him.

"Aye," Benjen nodded, "saw it with my own eyes"

"Damn it all," he cursed, "and the _bad_ news?"

"Mance Rayder is gathering an army of wildlings to march on the Wall," Benjen said and the older man closed his eyes in despair.

"When you say an army?" he frowned.

"I mean a fucking _army,_" Benjen told him and he paled further.

"We've not the men," he shook his head.

"We'll have to ask for aid from the south, they have to help us … if the Wall falls we all die," Benjen said insistently.

"Might be easier said than done gaining support from the south," the Old Bear said wearily.

"What do you mean?" he frowned.

"Lot's been happening since you went beyond the Wall," the Old Bear smiled wryly.

"Tell me what I need to know," Benjen frowned.

"Robert Baratheon is dead, his son now too … although the parentage has been questioned. Been said they're children of incest between the Queen and the Kingslayer," he started.

"Gods above," Benjen cursed.

"Stannis Baratheon has declared himself the true King, his brother did the same but he now lays dead as well … the North has marched to protect the borders but has declared for no one. The Kingdom's are on the brink of a war, I don't think anyone will listen to any pleas from us … when have they ever?" he finished with a heavy sigh.

"Ned will come," Benjen said certainly, "we have to at least try and gather support … my brother will come I know he will."

* * *

><p><em>Winterfell<em>

* * *

><p>"You will look after them won't you?" Dany asked for what felt like the thousandth time.<p>

"Yes," Theon rolled his eyes towards the largest of the dragons who sputtered out some smoke in response, oddly they seemed to like him.

"Thank you," Dany said gratefully, she was loathe to leave the dragons behind but Lord Stark had forbidden her from taking them.

He was right of course, they didn't know anything about the supposed Aegon yet and revealing to him that they had three dragons would not be clever of them. Robb had hoped that the thought of being parted from the three of them would make her change her mind and stay but he had not counted on them discovering accidently that the creatures liked Theon. He had only come into the kennels to see if there were any pups, thinking that Adele might like a companion in the house when he wasn't there. He liked the idea of her having a loyal dog that would protect her when he wasn't around, he hated her being in there on her own, especially when he had to work the night shift. Usually he would volunteer to patrol their street just so he could keep an eye out. He was no fool, she was a beautiful woman and there were men everywhere who couldn't resist a beautiful woman, even if she belonged to another. The thought of another men breaking in there and hurting her sent him into a panic every time he thought of it and he thought a big, ferocious looking dog might just make such men think twice.

There were a few pups and he was discussing with the kennel master when one could be separated from its mother when Dany had come in to see her dragons. Out of curiosity he had followed her through to the section where they were kept and had been just as surprised as her when they took a liking to him. He had purposely avoided them up until that point having heard horror stories from Ser Rodrik and some of his men. Apparently he had had nothing to worry about and Dany, seeing their liking for him, had asked him to take care of them while she was gone. They didn't need much, just feeding and watering and a little attention. He didn't need to give up much of his time for them because they had one another for company.

"Have you named them yet?" Theon asked her.

"No," she frowned, "I thought to name two of them for my brothers … but then I thought perhaps Jon would like to name one …"

"I still can't quite believe it about him," Theon said, shaking his head. He was one of a few who had been trusted with the truth.

"Neither can I," she confessed, "not long ago I had no one and now I potentially have two nephews"

"Do you think this Aegon is true?" Theon asked.

"I don't know," she said, shaking her head, "but I have to find out … I have to see him"

"I understand that," he said.

"I wish Robb did," she said with a heavy sigh.

"He's just worried about you, and after the fire I can't say I blame him," he said.

"I know," she said, "but this could change everything and I need to be there"

"It'll be alright … he'll calm down eventually," he said reassuringly.

"I hope so," she said, "anyway … how is Adele?"

"Better," he said hopefully, "she misses her father but she seems to have accepted that there is nothing she can do about it for now"

"It's awful what's happened, they are the only family one another has," she said sadly.

"Are you trying to make me feel guilty?" Theon asked her.

"No!" she protested at once, "No of course not … but you have to admit it was a rather reckless decision …"

"I love her," he said firmly, "I couldn't let her go and marry another … I just couldn't"

"You've changed Theon," she smiled.

"Is that a good thing?" he grinned back.

"A very good thing," she said, raising her brows and making him laugh.

"Thanks Dany," he said.

"You're welcome," she returned, turning her head as footsteps approached.

"Forgive me my Lady," the guard bowed, "have you seen Lord Stark?"

"He's preparing for the journey north, I'm not sure where he would be," she told him.

"Lady Stark?" the guard questioned.

"Sorry," she shook her head and he looked rather despairing.

"Lord Robb then?" he asked and she frowned.

"Has something happened?" she asked him.

"There's two ladies arrived my Lady," he told her, "one claiming to be Margaery Tyrell and the other her protector"

"Margaery Tyrell?" Theon question disbelievingly.

"That's what she says," he nodded.

"I best come and see her since no one else is around, Theon … would you see if you can find Lord Stark or … well, anyone?" she asked.

"I'll find someone," Theon promised her and they all made to leave the kennels.

* * *

><p>Dany made her way after the guard and saw the woman she assumed must be Margaery at once being helped down from her horse by another woman clad in armour and built more like a man. She searched in her mind for some reason that Margaery would be here of all places but she couldn't think of any. The woman turned then, rearranging her cloak about her and realisation flooded through Dany when her eyes caught the slight roundness of her belly.<p>

"Margaery Tyrell?" Dany questioned her gently.

"Yes," she nodded, trying to compose herself, "I've come to see Lord Stark"

"I've sent someone to find him, can I show you and your companion to the keep?" Dany asked her.

"Thank you," Margaery replied wearily, "the journey has been long"

"Come with me and we'll get you settled somewhere while we wait," Dany smiled.

"Who are you?" Margaery's companion asked her suspiciously then.

"Dany," she said, "Daenerys Targaryen, and you are?"

"Brienne," the woman answered, a suspicious look still on her face, "of Tarth," she added.

Dany merely inclined her head then before leading the way towards the keep. In the entrance hall she called for one of the servants to bring some hot cider and make up something to eat quickly for their unexpected guests. Margaery sat gratefully down in a chair when they entered the solar but Brienne stayed standing just behind her with her hand on the hilt of her sword, as if readying herself to draw it at any moment. Dany frowned slightly at the action but said nothing as two serving girls entered with the hot cider, promising that the food would not be long. Dany thanked them and poured out three glasses, Margaery taking hers with thanks and Brienne examining hers rather suspiciously. Gods the woman did seem the paranoid type. Dany took a pointed sip from her own glass then just to prove she wasn't trying to poison anyone. Thankfully the door opened again before she was forced to make any attempt at conversation, Lord and Lady Stark and Robb all filing in which almost identical looks of confusion on their faces.

"Margaery Tyrell?" Ned directed towards the petite brunette.

"Yes, my Lord," she stood then and curtseyed to him.

"You must forgive my lateness … we were not expecting you," he said.

"My brother sent me, he seemed to think this is the safest place for me," she told him.

"And what do you need keeping safe from?" Ned asked her.

"My family," she confessed, her eyes welling with tears, "forgive me …"

"It's alright my Lady," Ned soothed her but it was no good, before he knew it she had burst into tears and he looked at Catelyn despairingly.

"Hush now," Catelyn said, coming forwards and rubbing her hands soothingly up and down the girl's upper arms, "hush now … it's alright"

"I'm so sorry," she choked out, "this is no way to behave … I'm sorry"

"It's alright," Catelyn soothed again and Margaery took a deep breath, looking up to meet her eyes.

"Thank you," she whispered, "I don't know what came over me … I think I must be over tired"

"You've travelled a long way," Catelyn smiled sympathetically.

"Why?" Ned asked simply.

"When Renly was killed my family looked to ally us with the Lannister's … they planned to have me married to Joffrey but I couldn't," she shook her head and Dany understood.

"Did they know?" Dany asked her and she shook her head again.

"Know what?" Ned frowned.

"I'm with child," Margaery told him and he raised his brows in surprise.

"Renly's child?" he asked despite himself, everyone knew Renly preferred the company of men.

"I know what you're thinking," she said with a slight laugh, "and truth be told he did prefer my brother … but he did his duty with me and I am carrying his child"

"That explains why you've come here," Ned said.

"I could go to no one else … you were my only hope," she said sadly.

"You can stay as long as you need, you're carrying the heir to Storm's End and I would see to it that your child can claim its birth right, and perhaps more beside it," Ned said.

"What do you mean?" Margaery asked him almost fearfully.

"We were going to declare for Renly," he told her and her eyes widened.

"No," she shook her head, "no I'm sorry Lord Stark that is too much … I don't want my baby near that throne, it will be in enough danger as it is. That throne is poison … lusting for it killed Renly, it drove his own brother to murder him. My baby is innocent and I would not destroy that innocence by declaring them King or Queen."

"I understand," Ned nodded, "I respect your decision … I wouldn't want to force you"

"I've risked everything to save my baby, I would not throw that away for anything," she said fiercely.

"Very well," Ned nodded again.

"I don't want to sound ungrateful … I truly am blessed that you would consider looking after me here," she said then.

"You don't sound ungrateful," Ned assured her.

"You sound like a mother," Catelyn smiled, "that baby will be blessed indeed to have you."

* * *

><p><em>Riverrun <em>

* * *

><p>"See that?" the Hound pointed and Sansa squinted into the fading light.<p>

"I think so," she said uncertainly.

"Riverrun," he said, a smile almost tugging at his lips.

"We're nearly there?" she breathed, her eyes lighting up.

"We'll be through those gates before the sun is fully set," he promised her and she smiled widely.

Riverrun. Her family were in there; her grandfather and her uncle. They would pay the gold that the Hound wanted for her and then she would be safe behind walls that contained friends and not enemies. She had never met any of her Tully family but surely they would be wonderful if they were anything like her mother? Her mother often spoke fondly of her younger brother, despairing that he had not yet found himself a wife. Her grandfather she knew was unwell but perhaps meeting one of his grandchildren would make him feel at least a little better? She could make out the light of the keep now and hear the rushing of the river in her ears. So close.

She was so close.

* * *

><p><em>King's Landing<em>

* * *

><p>Cersei poured herself another glass of wine. Things were getting desperate. She had not seen Jaime since her father had caught them but one of her irritatingly chipper maids had told her that he was apparently leaving for Casterly Rock at the end of the week. That had been a few days ago now and she knew that tomorrow would be the day half of her was taken away. Every time she had tried to talk to her father he had dismissed her, refusing to even hear any mention of what he had witnessed between her and her twin. In her desperation she had even asked Tyrion to intervene on her behalf but he had refused her, telling her to pull herself together and start acting like a Queen instead of a drunken harlot. That had stung.<p>

He would pay for that.

She would see to that personally.

She swilled her wine around in her cup then, some of it slopping over the sides of the glass and dribbling down onto her pale blue silk. A knock sounded on the door then as she took a long drink. Jaime? Was it Jaime? Had he finally come? Would he ask her to run away with him and the children again? This time she wouldn't refuse, this time she would go with him and do anything and everything to make sure they were happy and safe and together forever.

"Come in!" she called, praying that it was her sweet Jaime.

"Drunk again Cersei," her father's voice sounded and she closed her eyes in despair.

"What do you want?" she slurred, taking another slug of wine.

"I want you to sort yourself out, Jaime is leaving in the morning and you need to be there to send him off," he told her.

"I will do no such thing," she snapped.

"You will do as you're told," he said icily, "think how it would look if you didn't see him off"

"I don't care how it will look," she said defiantly.

"You will be presentable and sober tomorrow and you will stand there and smile and wave along with everyone else," he ordered her and she rose up from her chair.

"Don't send him away," she whispered, finally meeting his eyes which didn't thaw.

"You heard me," he said, making to turn away.

"No!" she protested, grabbing at him and pulling him back; "You can't do this to me please! You can't separate us … it's wrong! Unnatural!"

"What you two did is wrong and unnatural, I am sending him away to save your children you foolish little girl!" he snapped at her, finally acknowledging what he had seen.

"Please!" she begged, clawing at his hand in desperation.

"Go to bed Cersei," he said dismissively, pulling his hand away from her.

"No!" she screamed, placing herself between him and the door so he couldn't leave.

"Stand aside," he said coldly.

"Not until you promise that Jaime can stay," she choked.

"Stand aside or I will force you to," he said, unmoved.

"You will not," she whispered, reaching her hand quick as a flash to his belt and pulling out his dagger.

"Put that down before you hurt yourself," he said exasperatedly.

"I can't be parted from him," she said maniacally, holding the blade out threateningly.

"It's wrong what you did … the very thing that drove that Targaryen's mad and to their end, just look at how Joffrey turned out!" he snarled at her.

She snapped then and before she could even think rationally about what she was doing she had plunged the dagger into his chest. His eyes were disbelieving but only for a moment as the light faded from them and he collapsed to the floor and moved no more.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **The end of this chapter is setting up a Cersei/Jaime/Tyrion story arc that I really hope I can pull off, and that you guys enjoy!

Let me know what you think! More soon!

:)


	28. Make-ups and Set-ups

**A/N: **Picking up right where we left off so I won't hold you guys up.

Just a big thank you to readers/reviewers, it really does mean a lot I hope you guys know that. Any comment on this would be awesome.

Onwards!

:)

* * *

><p><strong>Make-ups and Set-ups <strong>

* * *

><p><em>King's Landing<em>

* * *

><p>Cersei stared between her blood soaked hands and her unmoving father, unable to quite believe what she had done. She hadn't meant it. Had she? Surely she hadn't meant it. It was an accident. They would know that wouldn't they? She looked down at his body again then, her hands shaking uncontrollably as her eyes fixed on the dagger buried in his chest. Of course they wouldn't know that. It was cold blooded murder. She blinked then and a tear escaped her. What to do? A distant noise made her jump and she swallowed hard. There was no way she could get the blame for this. What would happen to Tommen and Myrcella without her to look after them? What would happen to her sweet babies and her sweet Jaime? No. She had done this to keep them all together and now she had to make sure that that happened.<p>

With shaking legs she stepped forwards, bending down and wrapping her hand around the hilt of the blade. She pulled it and it came free with a sickening noise, even more dark blood flooding from the hole she had made in her father's chest. She wondered if it had pierced his heart. She wondered if he had even had a heart. Her eyes darted about the room then as she took a few steadying breaths, her eyes landing on a shawl slung over one of the chairs. She darted forward and wrapped the knife in it before desperately wiping her blood-stained hands down the front of her skirts. Her shaking hands went for her laces then and she pulled her dress away before crossing to the basin and hurriedly scrubbing the drying blood from her palms. Another deep breath had her picking up her blood stained dress and lifting her mattress, shoving it underneath. She could deal with that later. Right now she needed to make sure that no one knew that it was her who had done it.

It wasn't her.

It wasn't her.

She pulled on an unspoiled dress then and tied it tight, her hands no longer shaking. Her heart was pounding and her head was clear. She knew what she had to do. She picked up the blade that was still concealed in her shawl and went for the door, carefully avoiding trailing her dress in the ever expanding pool of blood.

She knew exactly what she had to do.

* * *

><p>"Cersei?!"<p>

Jaime pounded the door again but still there was no answer. Perhaps she truly wasn't inside. Perhaps she was and she just didn't want to see him. He couldn't blame her if that was the case. He had been an utter craven since his father had caught them, reverting back to being that little boy again who obeyed all commands because that was what was expected of him. Deep down he knew he should stand up for himself and stand up for Cersei. He hadn't though, he had bowed his head and accepted his betrothal like a good boy. Heir of Casterly Rock even after fucking his own sister and fathering her children hadn't seemed like a bad punishment. He still should have come to see her sooner though. He was leaving in the morning and now he couldn't sleep knowing that she likely despised him for giving up on her so easily.

"Cersei please!" he pounded the door, "I know you're angry with me, but let me in, please!" he continued until his knuckles hurt and he rested his head against the door with a frustrated sigh; "Cersei?" he said in confusion, seeing the thick trickle of darkness seeking under the door; "Cersei?!"

He burst into the room and stopped dead.

"Jaime?" her voice behind him now as he staggered back from the doorway.

"Where were you?" he gasped out.

"With Myrcella, what's going on Jaime?" she asked him.

"Don't look!" he grabbed her before she could get passed him and see into the room.

"Jaime, what is it?" she struggled against him.

"It's father," he told her quietly and she stared at him.

"Let me go Jaime!" she demanded, pushing away from him and making for the door.

She retched when she saw the blood, their father laying in the middle of it, and Jaime pulled her back again as she screamed. There was the clanking of armoured footsteps then as guards came from every direction on hearing the screams of their Queen. Jaime held her as she screamed and sobbed and cursed the Gods, holding her so tightly as though he would never let her go. He wouldn't now. Now there was no reason to. Their secret had died with their father who was laying cold and lifeless on the hard stone floor. The guards were shouting their own questions then and Jaime tried to clear his own head and make sense of it.

"I don't know …" he shook his head.

"I do," Cersei said then, her voice shaking; "there is only one who hated him enough …"

"Cersei no," Jaime murmured quietly.

"Who else Jaime?" she demanded.

"Your Grace?" one of the guards asked her.

"The Imp," she spat; "I want him found and his rooms searched!"

* * *

><p><em>Riverrun<em>

* * *

><p>Sansa's hands shook as she stood there in the solar just waiting. She twisted them together, trying to avoid the gazes of the guards who she knew were still looking at her curiously. Instead she turned her eyes to the Hound and he raised his brows slightly at her. She swallowed hard then before moving her eyes to the floor, her hands twisting even more furiously together as the seconds trickled into minutes of almost deafening silence. Oh Gods … what if Edmure didn't believe her? Or worse, what if he did but wouldn't pay the coin? What would happen to her then?<p>

"Sansa?"

She looked up at the inquiry and set eyes on a man that could only be her uncle. He looked very much like her mother, like Robb. Like those she loved so much but hadn't seen in so long. Her mouth was dry as she went to open it, no words leaving her, her lips pressing back together and her head nodding as tears stung her eyes.

"You're alright," Edmure told her, coming to a stop in front of her; "you're alright now, you're safe here, you're with your family …"

"Thank you," she managed to whisper, lurching forward into his arms before she could stop herself.

He was slightly bewildered but said nothing, merely letting his hand pat her uncertainly on the back. One thing he had never been remarkably good at was comforting hysterical women. Catelyn would expect it of him though when it came to her daughter and so he managed to hush her gently and murmur to her again that she was safe now. When she began to calm down he turned his eyes instead to the man who had brought her. The guard who had come to fetch him had been wide eyed when he told him that the Hound had come with a girl claiming to be Sansa. Edmure had thought it some ploy but that was until he saw her stood there, the very image of his sister. She could be no one but Catelyn's daughter and he determined to pay her ransom and get her back to her mother.

"Have you been harmed in any way?" he asked her quietly then.

"No," she shook her head against his chest and he breathed a sigh of relief.

"I'm not my fucking brother," the Hound muttered under his breath.

"You'll be wanting a reward?" Edmure addressed him then as Sansa stepped back and rubbed at her cheeks with the sleeve of her dress.

"Well I didn't come out of the goodness of my heart," he replied wryly.

"I'll see to it," Edmure promised him and he nodded.

"What will happen now?" Sansa asked him then, her blue eyes wide.

"You will stay here until it's safe for me to return you to Winterfell," Edmure told her.

"Will you tell them where I am?" she asked almost fearfully.

"Of course," he nodded kindly.

"Thank you," she said, uncertain of what else she could possibly say.

"You look tired," Edmure stated, "come … I'll find you a maid to escort you to some chambers, we can speak more in the morning."

* * *

><p><em>The King's Road, near Long Lake<em>

* * *

><p>"Make camp!"<p>

The order was called back and Robb stopped his horse at once. They had been making good progress and he had been afraid that they might actually come across this Aegon's camp this night but thankfully the call had come up. They were close now though, at the other end of the lake, come dawn they would be able to see the trees on the other shore and Robb knew that through those trees was the camp of the man claiming to be Aegon Targaryen. He still didn't believe it and he had hated every moment of moving closer to him, the thought of Dany meeting with him, the thought of what his intentions were towards her. He shuddered slightly at the thought. It didn't bear thinking about. Their relationship was already straining and he knew it was his fault but he couldn't help it. He hated that she had marched with them, wishing more than anything that she was back at Winterfell where he knew she would be safe.

"Robb?" his father's voice sounded behind him and he sighed heavily.

"Father?" he said, turning to face him.

"We'll be upon them in the morning," his father told him.

"Aye, I thought as much," Robb nodded.

"Are you alright?" he asked, and Robb could practically feel his eyes boring into his skull.

"I don't like this, you know I don't," Robb said.

"Think of Jon," his father urged him.

"I want my brother back but I don't want to lose my …" he cut off, he had said too much.

"Your what?" his father frowned at him.

"It doesn't matter," Robb muttered, scuffing at the ground with his boot.

"Robb …" he began warningly.

"I don't want to lose my wife," Robb said lowly and his father sighed.

"Why would you even think that?" he asked him.

"I know all about Targaryen traditions," Robb said darkly.

"She's married to you," his father said firmly.

"That won't mean anything if he wants her … Gods … what if he wants her?" Robb asked him.

"Have you spoken to her?" his father returned.

"No," he scowled.

"Then go and talk to her," his father urged, "now Robb … tomorrow is important, I don't want this hanging over us"

"Fine," Robb agreed moodily before stamping away.

His and Dany's tent had already been erected and he slowed his pace as he came towards it, trying to sort out the words in his head. He swallowed hard before pulling back the flap of the entrance and slipping inside. She turned as she pulled on her robe, her eyes slightly apprehensive as they found his. They had been so shy and tentative around one another since the decision had been made to march and Robb hated it, missing the easy conversation and the happiness. How could it have dissolved so quickly? His fault, he reminded himself, all his own fault. His mouth was ridiculously dry as he made his way further into the tent, sitting heavily on the edge of the bed and tugging off his boots.

"I can't stand much more of this," Dany stated then and he swallowed.

"Much more of what?" he asked her quietly.

"_This,_" she repeated, coming to stand in front of him, "what's happened to us?"

"It's my fault," he told her, the only words that would come for him.

"Robb … please … just tell me what it is before I lose my mind!" she implored him.

"If this man is Aegon why do you suppose he wants to meet you so badly?" he asked her.

"Because I'm his aunt," she said, not missing a beat.

"Is that all?" he raised his brows, "That's the only reason you can think of?"

"Whatever it is Robb will you just spit it out?!" she demanded.

"Oh come on Dany! You're not stupid! You know the Targaryen traditions!" he shot back at her.

"I'm married to you!" she said incredulously, "Why would you even …?"

"Anything could happen to me," he said, meeting her eyes.

"And what? You think I would exchange vows with another man before you were even cold?" she asked him, her eyes wide.

"I don't know," he muttered, avoiding her gaze.

"Do you really think that little of me?!" she demanded.

"No," he shook his head.

"Do you seriously think I would consider marrying another if I lost you?!" she continued.

"Dany …" he breathed, looking up to meet her eyes again.

"You mean everything to me and it's killing me that we're falling apart," she choked.

"We're not," he shook his head vigorously, standing up to face her.

"That's what it's felt like," she confessed.

"I know … and it's all my fault. I'm sorry … I'm sorry … please forgive me," he murmured, pulling her against him.

"It's you for me Robb … no one else, I just want to see him, to see if he's kin … no more," she promised.

"I know," he breathed against her hair, "I've been ridiculous"

"Don't shut me out like that again," she scolded him, pulling back slightly.

"I won't I promise," he swore and her lips curved upwards.

"Good," she said lightly and he leant forwards to capture her lips, his worries seeping away as her soft lips moved with his as he guided her back to the bed.

* * *

><p><em>Winterfell<em>

* * *

><p>Adele shivered as she stepped out into the faint light of dawn, pulling her furs tighter around her as she set off down the quiet streets. There were only a few others up and she exchanged greetings with them as she made her way to the bakery. Theon had worked the night shift and she wanted to make sure there would be food for him when he woke up, knowing that he would doubtless be starving. She had been loath to pull herself out of his tight embrace and slip from their deliciously warm bed but he was always grumpy when he was hungry so it was best to avoid it. Her footsteps faltered slightly as she approached the bakers and saw her father outside already sizing up the loaves set out. His own eyes widened slightly when they set on her but he moved them away quickly enough and snatched up one of the loaves. Adele sighed. She had had about enough of this.<p>

"Father?" she tried but he ignored her, counting out his coin and giving it to the baker who looked between them almost nervously; "father please …" she continued but he turned to leave with thanks to the baker. "Father!" she grabbed at his arm to pull him back and he rounded on her suddenly, making her falter slightly; her feet taking a few steps back. His features were angry but she saw them soften slightly as her vision blurred.

"Adele?" his voice sounded hazy but she could feel his strong grip on the tops of her arms encouraging her to look at him; "Adele?! Sweetheart?!" his voice was more urgent now and she could hear it more clearly, her vision returning to normal. "Are you alright?!" he demanded.

"Fine …" she said, shaking her head, "just a little faint for a moment …"

"I'm taking you to the Maester," he said.

"No," she shook her head again, "truly there is no need …"

"I will be the judge of that," he said sharply, grabbing her arm firmly and practically marching her towards the Maester's tower.

She wanted to be irritated with him but she couldn't be, not when his being so concerned for her proved that he must still care about her. Love her even. He kept a strong grip on her as they climbed the spiral staircase and still she said nothing, wondering if he would insist on coming in with her. Surely he wouldn't? The Maester answered at once when her father knocked and she brought a smile to her face.

"Ser Ralf, what can I do for you?" the Maester asked.

"Adele felt unwell," he said and the Maester frowned towards her.

"Adele?"

"Just a little faint … truly I am fine now, I really ought not to waste your time …" she began.

"I would appreciate it if you checked her over," her father said and she sighed heavily.

"Of course, come right in," the Maester gestured for her to go inside and she did as she was told.

"I'll wait right here," her father said and she managed to nod and smile to him before the door closed.

"Now then," the Maester began.

"Maester Luwin there truly is no reason for me to be here wasting your time," Adele said at once.

"If you were feeling unwell …" he frowned.

"I know well enough what is wrong with me," she said quietly, glancing towards the door.

"I see," the Maester nodded knowingly.

"No one knows yet … but you see, there is no need for any examination," she said.

"And you're certain?" he checked with her.

"I have not bled and I ought to have, I know the signs well enough … I'm with child," she told him.

"Very well," he nodded, "but if you feel especially unwell I urge you to come and see me"

"I will," she promised, rising to her feet, "thank you"

"You're most welcome," he smiled as she made her way to the door.

She paused as she reached it and took a few deep breaths. That was the first time she had admitted her condition out loud. A pang of guilt hit her then as she thought of Theon sleeping soundly at home – it was him she ought to have told first. The truth was that part of her was worried about his reaction. He had changed so much from the man she had been warned about when she had first arrived but she wondered if perhaps a baby so soon would scare him, make him revert back to being that man. Would he turn back to whores as she grew bigger and undesirable? Would he do that to her? She shook her head, she couldn't deal with what-ifs. This baby was real and Theon would have to deal with it whether he wanted to or not. It wouldn't be long until he worked it out for himself anyway. Their love making had been uninterrupted since the wedding and that had been weeks ago. Theon wasn't stupid, he would work it out soon enough and she would rather he heard it from her before he did. She pulled open the door then and fixed a smile on her face for her father who looked instantly relieved as he stopped in his pacing.

"What is it? What did he say?" he demanded of her.

"I'm perfectly well just as I said," she soothed, "likely I'm just tired"

"That's all?!" her father checked almost desperately.

"That's all," she assured him and he crushed her into his arms.

"I'm sorry sweetheart," he breathed, "I'm so, so sorry … for everything. You're my world Adele, I just want to know you're happy …"

"I am," she promised him, tears stinging her eyes as she clung to him.

"That's all I ever wanted," he said, "all your mother wanted … all I promised her …"

* * *

><p>Theon was still asleep as she had expected him to be when she returned to the house. She couldn't concentrate on anything though and so eventually she climbed the stairs slowly and slipped quietly into their room. He always looked so young and beautiful and innocent when he slept. When he was awake he often had a frown creasing his brow as he worried about all sorts, either that or a twinkle in his eye that meant she was in for a treat. She loved everything about him but watching him sleep she could imagine him as a child. Imagine what their own child would look like. Her hand drifted down to her stomach then as she sat on the end of the bed with her eyes fixed on him, just waiting for him to wake up. Gods she hoped he would be pleased. She had been shocked and unsure how to feel when she had first suspected it but as her suspicions turned to certainty a little bubble of sheer joy had welled up in her. Gods she hoped Theon would not burst that bubble. He stirred then and she held her breath as his eyes blinked open slowly, a deep shuddering breath leaving him when he caught sight of her.<p>

"You frightened me half to death," he said groggily, "what are you doing there?"

"Waiting for you to wake up," she told him.

"Gods woman … you can't be that desperate for me can you?" he grinned slyly and she slapped his feet under the blankets.

"No," she pouted, "I have something to tell you"

"Go on," he yawned widely and she swallowed hard.

"I'm," she started, "we're … we … I'm with child Theon," she got out and he snapped his eyes to hers.

"Say that again," he whispered.

"I'm with child Theon," she said more confidently and he sat bolt upright.

"You're certain?" he checked, scrambling towards her.

"I'm certain," she confirmed and he smiled widely making her feel instantly relieved.

"Gods," he breathed, placing a hand to her stomach, "a baby …"

"Well is it any wonder?" she cocked her head to one side, "We spend half our lives abed …"

"Only half?" he raised a brow, "That doesn't seem like nearly enough time …"

"Theon!" she shrieked happily as he pulled her down onto the bed, his body coming to nestle between her legs.

"I love you Adele … I love you so damn much …" he breathed.

"Can you believe we're going to be a true family?" she asked him, running a hand through his hair.

"I can't wait," he smiled and she returned it happily.

"I love you," she whispered just before his lips leant in to capture hers.

* * *

><p><em>King's Landing<em>

* * *

><p>Tyrion sat up with a jolt as the door crashed open, hitting the wall with such force that it felt like the whole room shook. The woman laying naked at his side shrieked, grabbing a sheet towards her to protect her modestly. Tyrion didn't know why she was bothering, she was a whore; likely some of these guards had had a go on her themselves. He blinked stupidly at them, seeing swords drawn and pointed towards him. Was this some kind of joke? His father had told him to stay away from the brothels but really? Surely sending an armed guard to drag him back to the keep was going just a little bit too far?<p>

"What do you want?" he asked them grumpily, his head pounding from the wine he had drunk the night before.

"You're under arrest," one of them told him and he snorted.

"For what? Drinking and whoring?" he rolled his eyes.

"Murder," the guard said, stepping further forward.

"Murder?" Tyrion repeated incredulously, "And who am I supposed to have murdered?"

"The Hand of the King," he told him.

"My father?" Tyrion said stupidly.

"Get dressed my Lord, we have orders to take you to the cells," the guard said.

He moved then, slipping into his breeches and pulling a tunic over his head, his mind racing. Pounding. How could he be under suspicion? It was ridiculous, he had been at the brothel all night – countless people could account for his whereabouts. The state he was in he would not even have been capable of murdering anyone. He was more likely to have murdered himself, drowned in wine or smothered by a whores tits. This would all be some misunderstanding and once he got back to the keep he would demand to see Jaime and have all this madness sorted out.

Two guards grabbed him under the arms then as soon as he fastened his doublet. The eyes of whores and the men seeking their custom were on him as he was marched from the room. Gods he couldn't stand them. Any of them.

"What?" he snapped, defiantly lifting his chin up; "Have you never seen a dwarf before?"

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Hmm, certain people *coughTheonahem* are rather too happy at the moment ... anyway ... thoughts?

More ... ooooh, how does Sunday grab you?

:)


	29. Meeting and Treating

**A/N: **New chapter, finally, all three Targaryen's in one place!

Hope you guys enjoy, do let me know what you think as your comments are much appreciated.

:)

* * *

><p><strong>Meeting and Treating<strong>

* * *

><p><em>Riverrun<em>

* * *

><p>"I have men arriving from the Twins today, it might be best that you stay out of the way," Edmure told her and she nodded.<p>

"Why are they coming?" Sansa asked and he grimaced slightly.

"Old Walder has been trying to get me to marry one of his daughters for years," he said.

"And you don't want to?" she guessed, buttering another slice of toast.

"If you'd seen any of his daughters Sansa you'd understand why," he sighed and she smiled slightly.

"Perhaps I could spend time with my grandfather?" she suggested and he nodded slowly.

"He's very ill," he told her, "he may get confused … don't let it upset you"

"Perhaps seeing a new face will help?" she suggested hopefully and he smiled at her optimism.

"Perhaps," he agreed, privately thinking that Sansa's face would not be a new one for his father, she was far too like Catelyn.

He sighed heavily then as he heard the sound of hooves outside in the courtyard, standing up and looking down out of the window. It seemed the Frey's had arrived. Right on time. Sansa smiled sympathetically at him and he said his farewell to her before retreating from her chambers. He didn't like having to keep her upstairs and out of the way but people talked and she was very Tully. The Riverlands had managed to keep out of everyone's way in the war so far but Edmure imagined that if it was discovered that Sansa Stark was at Riverrun they would soon be dragged into the fight. He was trying to hold off for now, what with his father being so ill. He would only march when the North did, and he assumed Lysa at the Eyrie was of the same thinking. Family came first and he knew it was likely that Ned Stark would eventually make a move. When he did Edmure would be ready and waiting to join him.

The Frey's were in the entrance hall and he forced a smile for them as he descended the last few steps. They bowed low to him, murmuring their greetings and he responded as lightly as he could before inviting them to follow him to one of the council chambers. They sat when indicated and Edmure followed their lead, pulling the decanter of wine towards him at once and pouring a large measure. If they even thought to try and force fat Waldra on him again he would need it.

"What do you have for me this time?" he asked and Olyvar smiled rather sheepishly.

"Our father is aware you are not keen," Waldron stated, "so he sent us with this …"

"What is it?" Edmure reached out to take the smooth silver from him.

"Open it," he urged and Edmure did as he was told.

"She's my sister, Roslin," Olyvar told him and Edmure stared at the portrait.

_If _this was accurate the girl was utterly beautiful. He had taken many a pretty girl to his bed but this image was something else entirely. He could never imagine tiring of her with her soft dark curls, her big doe eyes and the mesmerizing smile. There was a slight hint of a gap between her two front teeth which somehow made her even more enchanting to Edmure. He looked up to Waldron and Olyvar then and saw the look of amusement shining in their eyes.

"Is this real?" he asked them.

"That's her image," Olyvar said, "and it is a true one"

"And why am I only seeing it now?" Edmure demanded.

"She is father's jewel … he is loath to part with such a prize but if that's what it takes …" Waldron trailed off.

"She is beautiful," Edmure conceded.

"She is also obedient, kind and gentle," Waldron added.

"She's been taught her duty well, she would know how to run your household," Olyvar continued.

"I see …" Edmure muttered, his mind racing, his eyes turning back to the image of Roslin Frey.

* * *

><p>Sansa let herself quietly into the room, her grandfather was propped up against the pillows but his eyes were closed so she tiptoed to the window seat and sat herself down. The view from here was beautiful and she looked out over the river that seemed to sparkle in the morning sunlight. She could still scarce believe that she was here, somewhere safe. Hopefully it would soon be arranged for her to be taken back to Winterfell. She wanted that more than anything.<p>

"Cat?" a voice rasped from behind her and she turned her head.

"I'm not Cat," she said gently, standing up and making her way towards him.

"Lysa … little Lysa …" her grandfather said, grasping her hand.

"I'm Sansa," she told him, "I'm Cat's daughter …"

"Oh Lysa," he moaned, his grip on her hand increasing, "you've come to forgive me …"

"Forgive you?" Sansa frowned slightly.

"He was no good that boy …" he shook his head, his eyes closing.

"What boy?" she asked him, "I'm Cat's daughter …"

"Cat?" his eyes snapped open again.

"Yes," Sansa nodded.

"Oh my little Cat … I haven't seen you in so long … have you seen your sister?" he asked hopefully.

"No," Sansa shook her head, unsure how she was supposed to correct him now.

"It would have been the ruin of her," he breathed.

"I don't understand," she said honestly and his grip on her hand slackened.

"You were always a good girl Cat …" he trailed off, his eyes closing again.

Sansa stayed where she was for a moment, until she was certain that her grandfather had fallen back to sleep. She eased her hand away from him then and moved quietly towards the door. Edmure had warned her he might get confused, but far from upsetting her it had intrigued her. She wondered what he wanted to apologise to her aunt Lysa for. Whatever it was she supposed it was none of her business. She walked along the hallway then, wondering if Edmure was finished with the Frey's yet. It was rather lonely being confined up here but she knew it was for her own good. She looked over the bannisters as she crossed back to her own room and saw her uncle with two men in the entrance hall. Really she ought to get out of sight but before she could one of them looked up and caught her eyes. She froze then, thinking that if she darted away at once it would only make him more suspicious. His gaze lingered on her until her uncle noticed his distraction and moved his attention away from her.

Olyvar tore his eyes back to Edmure regretfully, he would have been more content to let them linger on the girl upstairs. Waldron was discussing final arrangements now and he let his eyes slide back up to where she had been, trying not to feel too disappointed that the beautiful girl had disappeared from his sight.

* * *

><p><em>King's Landing<em>

* * *

><p>"Cersei get out of my way!" Jaime huffed at her.<p>

"No!" she snapped, "You're not going, I won't let you!"

"I need to see my brother!" he returned heatedly.

"He's a murderer!" she screamed.

"I want to hear that from him!" he shot back at her.

"Jaime please," she said more softly, taking his hand, "I need you with me right now"

"Cersei," he groaned as she stepped closer, her other hand slipping under his breeches.

"He killed our father," she whispered, "he's a liar … those whores never saw him, he wasn't in that brothel like he said he was … you heard them …"

"Cersei …" he breathed as her hand continued to move.

"I want him punished Jaime … I want him dead," she said.

"He's called for trail by combat …" he said as she pushed him back towards the bed.

"Who will stand for him?" she whispered, straddling his waist as he lay back.

"I …" he started but she cut him off with a kiss.

"Not you Jaime," she breathed against his lips, rocking her hips into his, "not you …"

* * *

><p>Tyrion stared at the wall, the steady drip that fell from the ceiling was at once irritating and soothing to him. He imagined he would miss that simple annoyance when his life was snuffed out. It had become clear to him very quickly that Cersei had no plans to see him released. This was her chance to rid herself of him once and for all. He knew once the trial came that not one of those he had been with in that brothel would remember it. The Gods only knew how much she was paying for their lies. He had always known she hated him … but this? There were only two options left for him now that he had foolishly called for trial by combat in his fit of anger. The first was Jaime but it was looking increasingly unlikely that his brother would even come and see him, let alone stand for him. Cersei's poison seemed to have seeped so far into him that he could only ever see things her way. It was a shame … Jaime could have so much potential away from her, leaving for Casterly Rock and taking a wife could have been the making of him.<p>

His other option was Varys, the eunuch was supposed to dance to his tune now since the discovery that he was behind the riots. Tyrion had no doubt that the man could get him away from the Capitol with relative ease if he really wanted to. But where would he go? What would he do? How was he supposed to live with Cersei constantly, relentlessly hunting him down for a crime he had not committed? He had thought about it on countless occasions. Had fantasized about it. But he would never have done it, he hadn't done it. His protests fell on deaf ears though. Everyone seemed completely blind to the fact that it would have been next to impossible for him to stab his father in the chest. How could he have overpowered him to the point that he could do that given his height? In short he was just too _short _to have been able to do it but that mattered not as Cersei's word seemed more than enough. Cersei's word was law and it would kill him if he didn't think of a way out of here soon.

* * *

><p><em>Targaryen Camp, near Last River<em>

* * *

><p>It was Ghost who came to greet them first as they picked their way through the trees. He bounded right up to Grey Wind and the pair of them whined and yapped happily at one another. The sight made Dany smile and she looked to Robb only to see him staring straight ahead at the fluttering banners. Lord Stark at his side looked almost as grim faced as they came to a halt on the perimeter of the camp. The men all seemed nervous as they dismounted and Dany swallowed hard as she slid from the back of her own horse. Robb came to her side but he still said nothing and she could see a nerve jumping in his temple. They may have made up but he was still by no means happy about being here. She just hoped that he wouldn't lose his head, none of them had any idea how they would be greeted and what would happen from there.<p>

Ned stepped forward then, his brow furrowing as a man approached him that he felt sure he recognised from somewhere. He couldn't quite place him, thinking he may have seen him at the tourney at Harrenhal, knowing that he had been a Targaryen loyalist.

"Lord Stark," he nodded his head.

"Have we met?" Ned asked him, taking the hand he offered and grasping it for a moment.

"Not as such," he said, "Jon Connington, although nowadays I go by the name of Griff"

"Griff," Ned repeated.

"Right enough," he nodded, "if you'd like to follow me …"

Ned glanced uneasily at Robb and Dany then, seeing his son working hard to keep his mouth shut and his good-daughter's eyes wide with apprehension. He jerked his head for them and his guard to follow after them. The Lords that were with him would remain with the rest of them men until he had an idea of what exactly was going on. They walked in silence through the camp, the men who had risen and were cooking up breakfast giving them curious looks as they passed. Sell-swords. Ned recognised them as that if nothing else. There were a group of five large tents in the middle of camp and Griff walked right up to the central one that had the highest flying sigil atop it. The three headed dragon, Ned had been certain that he would never see that again, certain that he had the only two remaining Targaryen's. He thought of Jon then and looked around, wondering where he was, wondering how he would react to them being here. His letter had been polite enough and reassuring but Ned knew that he must still feel utterly betrayed.

"Your guard can wait out here, there are no arms inside," Griff said then.

"Really?" Ned raised his brows.

"By all means keep your own arms, just make sure none are raised," he said.

"I'm not here to fight," Ned said coldly.

"Then please …" he gestured for them to enter and Ned went first followed quickly by Dany and finally a scowling Robb.

Ned's eyes slid right over the fair man who claimed to be the lost Prince and fixed instead on Jon who stood up at once and came towards him. He grabbed him in an embrace, not caring who could see and what they would think, just so relieved that he was safe and well. No matter how reassuring the letter was it was nothing to seeing him with his own eyes and seeing that he had not broken his promise to Lyanna after all.

"I'm sorry," Jon said as he pulled back, meeting his eyes.

"So am I," Ned nodded, his jaw set tight so emotion would consume him.

"Robb?" Jon looked tentatively towards him then and Robb's face finally relaxed.

"Don't worry … it healed," he smiled, stepping forward and embracing Jon himself.

"So did mine," Jon almost laughed when they broke apart, "Dany … I'm so sorry …"

"Come here," she embraced him gently and he held her back, so relieved that everyone seemed so understanding of him.

"Daenerys?" an uncertain voice broke through then and she turned to look at the man who claimed to be another nephew.

It was like looking at a brother, exactly like she had always imagined Viserys. He was so like her, his hair the same shade and when she met his eyes they were the same colour exactly. He was the mirror of her, only male, taller and more powerful but so very like her. So unquestionably Targaryen. She could practically feel Robb bristle at her side as she took a tiny step towards him, seeing the uncertainty shining in his eyes that she was certain was present in her own.

"Aegon?" she questioned, her voice barely more than a whisper.

"Yes," he nodded, his gaze firm on hers and she believed him at once.

"Yes," she agreed, her lips twitching up slightly and she saw the relief in his eyes.

She believed him, that was the main thing. His aunt, his kin, believed him just as he suspected Jon did although his brother had never said it out loud. Jon didn't really need to, just the fact that he had stayed here at the camp when Aegon had told him repeatedly that he was free to leave spoke volumes in his mind. Now all he had to do was convince the Stark's, Eddard and his son who were both grim faced, Robb even more so than his father. Aegon's brow creased slightly as he met the man's intensely hard blue gaze, wondering what exactly he had done to warrant such a look. He had barely spoken two words so far. Eddard was the main focus though, the Lord, the man who had control of the northern armies. His son could be as surly as he liked and Aegon assumed he would be but that wouldn't matter if he could get the father on side.

"Lord Stark," he bowed his head in greeting.

"Aegon," Ned bowed his own head, "I hear …"

"You hear right," Aegon nodded, "but … I'm sure you'd like to see some proof"

"What more proof is needed? Just look at him," Dany frowned.

"Dany," Robb practically growled in warning and she fell silent, contenting herself with narrowing her eyes at her grumpy husband.

"It's fine," Aegon said soothingly but still Robb didn't thaw and he turned away from him, wandering towards the torch bracket where a flame was dancing; "your proof," he said, placing his hand into the fire and holding it there, moving his eyes to Ned's who had a troubled expression on his face. After he felt he had made his point he pulled his hand back out of the fire and held it out, turning it over slowly so they could all see there was no mark on him. "Now," he said softly, "perhaps we can talk?"

* * *

><p>Wine was brought and Aegon poured the glasses himself, well aware of Robb's eyes boring into him as he moved. He could feel other eyes on him as well but they were much less hostile and he wondered again what it was that the Stark heir had against him. When he looked up to pass the wine around he noted how Robb's hand rested on the back of Dany's chair, his knuckles stretched white. Dany seemed more at ease but she kept glancing at him worriedly and Aegon suddenly felt like he might have worked out exactly what it was that Robb Stark had against him. He glanced down at his aunt's hand then and sure enough a simple silver band adorned her finger. His eyes moved to Jon then, he had failed to mention that their aunt was bound to the Stark's in more than just wardship. Then again … perhaps Jon didn't know either. His eyes slid back to the ring and Dany seemed to catch his line of sight, her hand suddenly pulled under the table. A frown definitely set in then as he passed the final glass to Jon before taking one himself. After a long drink he sat himself down and saw that everyone apart from Robb was sipping at their own wine. He sighed heavily. This was ridiculous.<p>

"I suppose you'd like to know my intentions," he said.

"I would," Ned agreed and Aegon let his lips twitch up slightly.

"Put simply I want to take the Iron Throne, my birth right," he told him.

"Aye," Ned nodded, "there is the complication of you being dead to contend with"

"My legitimacy cannot be denied, you've seen it for yourself," Aegon said.

"I have," he agreed, "but you cannot prove yourself to every man, woman and child in the Kingdom's"

"I don't need to, I need to prove myself to the Lords, if I can convince them then their people will follow, you know that Lord Stark," Aegon said, taking another sip of wine.

"And you want my help?" Ned raised his brows.

"We are kin after all," he raised his own, glancing towards Jon.

"Jon?" Ned said, meeting his eyes.

"I believe him," he said, "but it is not my decision to make"

"You've declared for no one," Aegon stated.

"It's not for lack of trying," Ned muttered.

"Griff was certain you would join Stannis," Aegon said, meeting his eyes.

"That was my initial intention," he agreed.

"Surely he wouldn't turn away twenty thousand and potential forces from the Riverlands and the Vale?" Griff spoke up then.

"Stannis is under the guidance of a priestess, he's been bewitched by her if his companion is to be believed and he seems a good man," Ned explained, "he seemed to think getting his hands on Dany was more important than my men and I wasn't about to let that happen"

"And Renly?" Griff piped up again.

"Murdered," Ned told him, "I have his widow at Winterfell"

"Why?" Aegon asked.

"She's with child," Ned confessed.

"Does she seek the throne for her unborn child?" he asked.

"No," Ned shook his head, "she doesn't want her child anywhere near it, but I would see to it that Storm's End is reclaimed for the babe"

"One of your terms?" Aegon raised his brows.

"It would be, _if _I'm to join you," Ned said and Aegon nodded.

They all took a pause there, all sipping at the wine again. Even Robb raised his glass this time and Aegon smiled slightly, thinking it was about time another matter was cleared up. There was only so much of this tense atmosphere he could take. Outside he heard the whining of the wolves and wondered if they could sense it too. Jon had told him that he seemed connected to his wolf Ghost, Aegon could only assume that Robb was connected to his too and that their emotions would mirror one another's. The wolves were clearly nervous and agitated, Aegon could see their shadows moving up and down through the canvas of the tent now that the sun was rising higher.

"I think I need to make something clear," Aegon started again.

"Go on," Ned set his glass down and met his eyes.

"My intentions towards Daenerys," he said then and he saw Robb stiffen, an uneasy look in Dany's eyes as she too turned to him.

"Are?" Ned urged.

"She's my aunt – kin. I know the traditions of our family but they were what had madness flowing through the veins of so many, I don't want that. Nor would I want to take a wife who is already married," he said, his gaze moving to Robb now whose eyes widened slightly.

"Dany's not married …" Jon said then, frowning at the flush that appeared on her cheeks.

"We didn't want to do it without you," she said.

"We …" he tailed off, seeing Robb shift uneasily, "you …"

"I'm sorry you weren't there, we have been waiting so long we just …" Robb began.

"No," Jon shook his head, "it's my own fault I wasn't there … I'm pleased for you"

"Thank you," Dany said, looking immensely relieved.

"We are kin in more ways than one," Aegon looked towards Ned again.

"Aye," Ned agreed, "I think it's time I spoke to my banners"

"As you wish," Aegon nodded his head, "I will be right here when you're ready to speak again"

Ned merely nodded before standing up from the table. The others seemed unsure what to do and he sighed, meeting Robb's eyes and jerking his head towards the flap of the tent. Not all the banners were here but many were and he needed to seek their advice. He was inclined to believe Aegon, but there would have to be several terms set in place and agreed to before he even began to consider joining his army with his. It was a huge risk and one that may result in the ruin of them all. Still, he had always known he wouldn't be able to stay out of the fight forever and here it was. Crossroads.

"Dany?" Robb looked at her pointedly when she made no move to stand.

"Do you mind if I stay?" she asked him hopefully and he sighed at the look in her eyes.

"As you wish," he said heavily and she smiled.

He bent to kiss the top of her forehead then before shooting a warning look at Aegon who tried his best not to smile before he looked pointedly at Jon who smiled reassuringly. His father was making his way out of the tent then and he followed on after him, trying to clear his head, knowing that he would have to concentrate on this meeting with the banners.

* * *

><p>"So … more wine?" Aegon asked when they had departed.<p>

"Thank you," Dany smiled at him and he leant over to top up her glass.

"Well this is … odd," he said after a few moments of awkward silence.

"That's one word for it," she agreed, lifting her glass to her lips and taking a long drink.

"So … aside from you and Robb getting married what else have I missed at Winterfell?" Jon asked.

"Well," Dany set her glass down, "would you believe me if I told you Theon got married?"

"Theon?" Jon repeated incredulously.

"Theon," she confirmed, "in secret of course, Ser Ralf was furious when he found out"

"By the Gods, why?" he asked.

"Adele was betrothed to some knight in Torrhen's Square and Theon couldn't let her go," she explained.

"Sounds romantic," Aegon put in and Jon snorted.

"You haven't met Theon," he said.

"True enough," Dany smiled, "but … I do think he loves her very much"

"Well I wish her the luck of the Gods, no doubt she'll need it," Jon sighed, taking a sip of wine.

"And your fa – Lord Stark, already mentioned Margaery Tyrell," she said.

"Is she really as beautiful as they all say?" it was Aegon who had asked her.

"Well if you've heard of her beauty across the Narrow Sea then I suppose she must be," Dany smiled in amusement and he grinned.

"Is the baby truly Renly's?" Jon asked then.

"Everyone seems to believe so, I'm sure we'll find out for sure when it's born, you know what was said about the Baratheon seed," she raised her brows.

"Why would it not be his?" Aegon asked with a slight frown.

"It was a well-known secret that Renly preferred the company of men," Jon said meaningfully and his eyes widened in understanding.

"She must be beautiful then," he said after a moment and they all snorted in amusement.

"I don't suppose you ever met my brother did you?" Dany asked him then and Aegon shook his head.

"No, I knew of him, but I never met him," he said and she nodded slightly sadly.

He bit his lip. It wasn't a lie. He had never met Viserys but he had heard plenty about him from the letters Illyrio had sent to Griff. Madness flowed through him just as surely as it had flowed through his father. Dany's father. He glanced at her then and saw her eyes fixed on her half empty glass of wine. Moving his eyes to Jon he saw him looking at her in concern. There was no madness here, he was certain of that and now Dany was married into a family like the Stark's and with luck he and Jon would marry into other houses, he was hopeful that any lingering traces would be snuffed out. There was no point in telling Dany her brother had been a lunatic though. Best she remember whatever image she had conjured up in her head, likely it was far more comforting than the truth would be.

"To Viserys," he said, raising his glass up.

"To Viserys," Jon and Dany echoed, bringing their glasses up to clink with his.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **That went rather well ... thoughts?

Just one thing, for the intents and purposes of this fic Aegon **is** real, I don't know whether he is or not in the books but for this fic he's the real deal so there won't be any questioning his legitimacy - at least not from those allied with him.

More later in the week.

:)


	30. Changing Directions

**A/N: **Next chapter guys! But first I have some guest's to reply to so bear with me!

**Guest #1: **Thank you very much! Since you wanted the next one, here it is.

**Angus Ieun: **Wow thank you, no pressure on this chapter then if you thought the last one was the best yet ;) Thanks for such a lovely review. This story will be one story, I did think about splitting it but I don't see the point. I will write others after this but this is a standalone story. It's no where near finished though so there is plenty more to come which I hope you enjoy. Thanks so much again!

**TheForgottenOne: **If I could label 10 characters in the description I would but I'm limited to four. Jon is there because he is a major part of the story. It might not seem like he's getting a lot of action right now but I suppose I have the luxury of knowing what is coming up for him which is plenty I can promise you that.

**Guest #2: **Thanks for reading once you stumbled upon it. To answer your question. I'm really not sure, right now I have rough notes written out up to chapter 35 but I can tell you now it could end up being double that. So much more to do! A lot, I suppose is the answer!

Thanks to everyone else as well although you should have got my PM's! Anyway, enough holding you up, here's the next chapter. Any feedback would be great as always!

:)

* * *

><p><strong>Changing Directions <strong>

* * *

><p><em>Dragonstone<em>

* * *

><p>"Well, now that's done with," Stannis slammed the door closed and fixed his eyes on the Tyrell's; "perhaps we can discuss the Capitol?"<p>

Loras seethed, taking the wine that one of the maids was passing around. He hated this. He hated being here, hated sitting in this room with the man who had murdered the love of his life. How his father and grandmother managed to sit and treat and discuss things rationally with such a man he did not know. It was taking everything he had not to pull his sword and ram it through Stannis' chest. That red priestess turned her eyes on him then as though she knew exactly what he was thinking. Perhaps she did. He had heard enough by shaking his coin purse in the right direction, knowing that it was likely her magic that had allowed Stannis to kill Renly. He thought of Margaery then, if all had gone to plan then she would have reached Winterfell by now. Gods he hoped he had done the right thing in sending her there. Surely he had? Eddard Stark had honour; that was one thing Renly had always uttered with such utter certainty. Renly would have trusted him with his wife and unborn child and so that was what Loras had had to do. Of course, Margaery would have had to have got there first and he could only pray that she had. He had told her not to send him any word lest it was intercepted. He was even more pleased with that decision now they were holed up at Dragonstone making deals with the man who had ensured her child would never have a father.

He glanced towards Wilas then and saw that he was listening intently to the plans that were being made to take the Capitol. There would be a fleet organised by Stannis and the armies of Highgarden would march right up to the front gate. If the Lannister's had any sense they would surrender. Having heard tales of Cersei from Renly though he was rather of the opinion that they would rather see the Capitol burn to the ground than surrender the Iron Throne. Still, with news having filtered out that Tywin was dead, there might actually be a chance of winning after all. Without his hold over the Westerlands anything could happen. Personally Loras was hoping that Stannis would die in battle, his red bitch too. Then Shireen would be left as his heir and thanks to her betrothal to Wilas, his family would be in the seat of ultimate power. Perhaps then Margaery would be able to come back. Wishful thinking, he knew that. Still … it was not impossible that Stannis would die … Loras vowed then that if he saw the man in trouble on the battlefield he would do nothing. He would do nothing to help and he would enjoy it.

"So that's settled?" Stannis asked and Loras snapped his attention back to the conversation.

"Simple enough," Olena smiled for him.

"The Lannister's are in disarray, with our combined forces we can win this," Stannis nodded.

"No doubt," Mace agreed, bowing his head.

"And once it is done we can celebrate with a wedding," he said, turning his eyes on Wilas.

"I'm honoured," Wilas said and Loras narrowed his eyes at him.

"Unless there is anything else …" Stannis trailed off.

"That is everything your Grace," Mace stood and bowed.

Loras followed suit, inclining his head before heading straight for the door. Olena helped Wilas to his feet, walking at his side as he limped along with his cane for aid. Mace left last, bowing once more to Stannis and closing the door behind him. Stannis turned his gaze to Melisandre when they had gone and she raised one perfect eyebrow at him.

"What do you think?" he asked her.

"They have thrown their support behind you, there really was nothing else they could do," she said.

"Should I be wary of a knife in my back?" he questioned.

"From the boy perhaps," she told him.

"Loras?" he checked and she nodded.

"I'm sure he would be more than eager to avenge his lover's death … but I don't think he has the nerve," she assured him.

"He best not have," he growled.

"You must feel more secure now," she stated and he nodded slightly.

"Once Shireen is married I can worry less," he agreed.

"You would be even more secure with a son," she said.

"Selyse is unable," he said.

"Such a shame," she said quietly, "it is also a shame that more houses from the Stormlands have not joined your cause"

"They mourn Renly," he practically spat.

"Perhaps if the Swann's joined you …" she tailed off.

"The Swann's?" he repeated, "Have you seen something in the flames?"

"I do not have to see this in the flames to know it would benefit you, aside from your own house they are the most powerful are they not?" she arched a brow.

"They are," he confirmed.

"And if they were to join you … others would surely follow," she told him.

"I have nothing to offer, Shireen was my only tool," he said.

"For now," she agreed.

"Is there something you're not telling me?" he demanded of her.

"All I know I share with you," she soothed, "I am merely counselling your Grace in the absence of your smuggling friend"

"And what would you counsel me?" he asked.

"A King needs two things, a male heir and strong armies at his back, that is all," she said.

"That is all," he repeated, turning to the window and gazing out.

"I'll leave you now your Grace," she said, a small smile playing on her lips as she left him alone with thoughts of the Stormlands and a son.

* * *

><p><em>Targaryen Camp, near Last River<em>

* * *

><p>"You would join him?" Robb asked.<p>

"Who else do we have Robb?" Ned returned and his son sighed heavily.

"I don't know," he said moodily.

"Put aside your feelings about Dany and think rationally for a moment," Ned advised him.

"Do you really think the people will believe him to be true?" Robb asked.

"One look and there will be no doubt, the banners are convinced, and so am I," he said firmly.

"I'm going to have to get used to him then," Robb sighed heavily.

"Try and get along with him, it would mean the world to Dany and it will make things a lot easier," he told him.

"I'll do my best," Robb muttered, his eyes finding Dany with Jon and Aegon just outside the tent. She was fussing over Grey Wind and the sight made him smile slightly.

"Best we go and tell him … we have plenty terms to put to him, might be he won't want us after all," Ned tried to joke and Robb's mouth twitched up slightly.

Aegon was the first to see them coming, Ned Stark and his son, followed on by several men and a woman who he assumed must be his banners. He knew that not all of them would be here, those closer to the border were tasked with holding it and making sure the North was warned of any coming invasion. Still, he hoped there were enough of his banners here to convince Ned Stark that he could make this decision. Aegon could be patient but he didn't want to be toyed with – he wanted to know sooner rather than later whether or not he could count on northern support.

"My Lord," he greeted as they approached.

"Your Grace," Ned inclined his head and Aegon raised his brows.

"Does that mean …?" he began.

"We have some terms," Ned cut him off.

"Of course," Aegon nodded, "come, we can discuss them in comfort at least"

Aegon noted some of the Stark banners looking at him slightly suspiciously as they all settled down in the council tent. A few he noticed seemed to look between him and Dany, as though they were deciding if he was Targaryen enough for them. He knew he and Dany looked very alike, they could be brother and sister. It felt strange that she was his aunt when she was in fact younger than him but then nothing about this situation was in the slightest bit normal.

"Your terms?" Aegon invited Ned to speak.

"The North remains as it is," he started, "we supported Robert in the rebellion and as gracious as you are now I have no doubt that part of you must long for revenge"

"I cannot deny that," Aegon agreed.

"None of my banners were responsible for the monstrosities that occurred in the Red Keep," he stated.

"I am well aware of who was responsible," Aegon said.

"And I would support you in seeking them out and delivering justice," Ned nodded.

"The North remains as it is," he nodded in return, "what else?"

"Storm's End will be given over to Renly's widow, her child is the rightful heir. No matter what happened with the throne that has always been the Baratheon seat," Ned said.

"Agreed," Aegon nodded again, "but might I add a condition that once her time of mourning is over and her babe is born that Margaery Tyrell is matched with someone of my choosing?"

"You might," Ned agreed.

"Anything else?" Aegon coaxed.

"Likely the Riverlands and the Vale will join us," Ned said, "being kin to my wife. I would ask the same for them as I did for the North. They too fought for Robert but I would ask you to grant them the same mercy you have promised for the North"

"My Lord, if I destroyed all those houses that declared for Robert I wouldn't have much of a realm left to reign over," Aegon smiled slightly.

"No you wouldn't," Ned agreed.

"I intend to put down the Lannister's responsible and I intend on making Gregor Clegane suffer a thousand deaths, that is all," Aegon promised.

"I can support you in that," Ned nodded.

"They raped and murdered and butchered children to ascend the throne, I do not intend to lower myself to that level," he continued.

"I meant no offence," Ned soothed.

"None was taken," Aegon returned, "are they all your terms Lord Stark?"

"Aye," Ned nodded.

"Then you are with me?" he asked.

"The North is with you," Ned nodded, standing up and holding his hand out to Aegon. Robb watched uneasily as the younger man grasped it. War was coming quicker than he had expected.

* * *

><p>Robb tugged up Dany's skirts as he pressed her even more firmly into the mattress, a moan escaping her as his hand found her bare thigh, coaxing it up around his waist. Her nails scraped down his back then and he moved his other hand to untie his laces, desperate to be with her. Dany tightened her thighs around him as he positioned himself above her, his lips attacking the tops of her breasts that were spilling from her bodice. When he pushed inside her she gasped out in pleasure and he let his lips trail up towards her neck as he began thrusting into her, pushing himself as far as he could go each time. Her hips moved in time with his, their pace quickening as they went on, both of them climbing higher and higher and slowly beginning to lose control. She fisted her hands in his hair then and practically dragged his lips to hers as they continued moving so perfectly together.<p>

Neither of them heard the commotion outside as they continued rocking pleasure through one another, the moans and groans leaving their mouths blocked everything else out as they pushed each other even higher. Dany was so close to the edge now and she told him, told him to hold on so they could tumble down into the depths of pleasure together. Robb promised her that they would, his lips fluttering against hers as he promised her over and over, feeling her sharp breath on his lips as she came closer and closer. She shifted her thigh slightly higher then and when he pushed fully into her on his next thrust he sent her flying. His name left her lips so perfectly as she clenched around him and brought him to his own end. Robb collapsed against her, breathing hard against the soft skin of her neck as her legs shifted back down lower around his waist.

The raised voices and shouts began to reach their ears then through the pleasurable haze and Robb regretfully pushed himself away from her, sliding out of her warmth and lacing himself back into his breeches. Dany in turn shoved her skirts back down and righted her bodice, her hands coming to her hair as she sat herself up and exchanged a puzzled look with Robb. It was the middle of the night, what could possibly be going on? Robb was up then and pulling on his boots, his eyes looking for his shirt which Dany saw crumpled at the end of the bed. He took it from her with thanks before making his way to the flap of the tent. She followed after him even though she knew he would rather she stay in the tent. If something bad had happened then she had a right to know about it as well. That's what she would have told him had he told her to go back but to her surprise he said nothing in protest as she slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow.

"What's going on?" Robb asked as soon as he caught sight of a familiar face.

"A raven's come from the Wall," Jon told him.

"And?" Robb asked more impatiently.

"And they're in there arguing," Jon answered.

"About what?" Dany asked curiously.

"The Wall calls for aid … it's under attack," Jon said.

"And father would go," Robb nodded in understanding.

"Exactly," Jon grimaced.

"But Aegon doesn't want to?" Dany guessed.

"He's been waiting a long time for the throne," Jon said.

"Well he can wait a little longer," Robb said heatedly, "the Wall protects us all, he won't have a throne to sit if the Wall falls!"

"Robb," Dany cautioned him.

"What?" he said incredulously, "It's true!"

"Perhaps we could offer some incentive for Aegon to go to the Wall first," Dany said.

"What do you mean?" Robb asked.

"You didn't tell him about the dragons?" Dany asked Jon lowly.

"No," he shook his head, "I said nothing of them"

"Just as well," she nodded, "but now I think it might be time"

"Dany … are you certain about this?" Robb asked.

"We're allied already and we're kin … he would find out in the end," she said.

"What are we waiting for?" Jon raised a brow and gestured to the council tent.

The argument seemed to cease as they walked in and Dany thought it was just as well as several of the northern banners looked as though they would happily begin pulling swords. That would do no good, their new alliance would be broken before it had even begun. Her eyes sought out Aegon's then and she widened them insistently at him. He inclined his head slightly then and she took that to mean that she was free to speak.

"We have dragons," she said at once and he stared at her; "they are not long hatched but they are thriving and they will grow. They could be an asset to us when they grow bigger, but that will take some time and patience. By the time we march to the Wall and deal with the threat likely they will have trebled in size, perhaps more. Aegon … the Wall protects us all, if it were to fall or even be breeched then all of the Kingdom's would be in danger. I don't think Lord Stark would even consider marching us the wrong way unless there was a very real reason"

"There are a hundred thousand very real reasons," Ned stated, "and that's not to mention the walkers"

"Walkers?" Griff snorted.

"My brother says he has seen them with his own eyes and I believe him, Benjen is no liar and nor is he a fool. He would not say such things unless he was certain," Ned snarled.

"Dragons?" Aegon said faintly, his eyes still on Dany.

"Three," she confirmed, "three dragons for three Targaryen's, you know the tales"

"I do," he nodded, his head swimming.

"The Wall can't fall and it can't defend itself from a threat like this," Ned insisted.

"There is no point marching south and ignoring this, if the wildlings get through - which no doubt they will with those numbers – then they will spread across all the Kingdoms and be near impossible to stop. Do you really want to be the King sat on the throne when that happens? The people will be calling for another rebellion in no time and I for one wouldn't blame them," Robb spoke up then.

"Lad's right," the Greatjon sniffed and Robb looked at him in surprise.

"Best stop them now while we know where they are," Jon said quietly.

"Right," Aegon met his eyes and then moved them back to Dany's which widened insistently.

"I am marching my men to the Wall," Ned said, "you can wait here if you like but I don't know how many of us will come back, you can march south without us and take your chances or … you march with us to the Wall and once it is done with we will move south, it's your choice but you need to make it quickly …"

"Aegon … the men we would lose …" Griff started.

"Enough," he said sharply, "I've made my decision, we are allied and we will keep the alliance intact. Best send word out to the rest of your men Lord Stark we may need reinforcements at the Wall"

"Aye," Ned nodded, a relieved smile on his face, "I'll have my wife get word to her brother as well, forces from the Riverlands can take over protection of the border and be waiting for us when we march south"

"We leave at dawn," Aegon nodded, "we ride to the Wall."

* * *

><p><em>King's Landing<em>

* * *

><p>Tyrion wished the bells would stop, they were giving him a headache. He was already stood in chains before the Iron Throne, Tommen sat there looking bemused and ever so slightly uncomfortable. He let his eyes scan the crowds for a friendly face but he saw none. What had he expected? Who would stand up for him? He was almost regretting his decision to call for trial by combat now, now that the day was here when his champion needed to materialize. Varys had come and offered to try and persuade the Mountain but Tyrion knew that that would be no good. It would never happen, the great beast was too loyal to Cersei, he had been his father's dog and now he was hers. Perhaps he would have stood a chance with the Hound but he had disappeared after the riots. Tyrion had an inkling that he had not gone alone and judging by Varys' smug expression when he pondered it in his presence he thought he might just be right in thinking that Sansa Stark would soon be safe with her mother. At least she had got out, she was a sweet girl and had not been made for a man like Joffrey or a place like the Capitol. If only he had had more time, he might have been able to smuggle her little friend Jeyne out with her.<p>

He was pulled from his thoughts then as Cersei finally made her entrance, looking every inch the grieving Queen, decked out in black with a mournful expression on her face. Her eyes were cold though and they practically turned to ice in her head when she fixed them on him. He stared back at her impassively. If she wanted a show she could go somewhere else but she was not going to get one from him. Jaime had slipped in behind her and Tyrion caught his eye. He had not seen his brother despite often demanding it. This was the first time and he tried to show Jaime wordlessly that he was innocent. His big brother knew him better than anyone and now was the time he needed him most. He needed him to believe him because if Jaime didn't then what hope did he have? Varys claimed to believe him but the eunuch could not swing a sword to save his own life, let alone Tyrion's. Tommen rose to his feet then but Tyrion barely saw him, keeping his eyes fixed firmly on his brother who gazed back at him with none of the coldness of his twin.

"Tyrion Lannister, you have called for trial by combat," Tommen began nervously, "would your champion please present themselves!"

There was silence, deafening silence. Tyrion looked around despite himself and saw that no one had moved so much as a muscle. Some people met his eyes as his own wandered the room but others kept them firmly on their own laps. He saw Cersei's eyes then, saw the tiny tug of smugness at her lips and he wished all at once that whoever had killed their father had finished her off as well. Her expression changed to that of horror then, her eyes moving from his. He moved his own to see what had caught her attention and he could have cried in relief when he saw Jaime stood up. His brother met his eyes then and he couldn't help but send him a smile of immense gratitude.

"I will be his champion," Jaime declared defiantly then.

* * *

><p><em>Dragonstone<em>

* * *

><p>She was stood with her back to him, right at the top of the stairs, her hand resting lightly on the rail at her top. What she was doing he didn't know but he approached her anyway, hesitating slightly before placing his hand on the small of her back. She jumped slightly under his touch and he couldn't blame her, it had been a long time since he had touched her with any affection. Even when they still used to share a bed neither of them had ever found any true pleasure in being with one another. Theirs had never been a marriage of love, it had been a necessity. Now though it didn't seem as necessary to Stannis.<p>

"What are you doing here?" he asked her.

"I was thinking about Shireen … are we doing the right thing?" Selyse asked.

"We are doing what we must. Sacrifices have to be made if I'm to take the throne," he said.

"But she's our daughter," she protested.

"You were all for this match, what has changed?" he questioned her.

"She's so young Stannis," she turned to face him, her heels barely an inch from the edge of the step.

"They will not marry until she is flowered," he said firmly.

"It feels like we're selling her, using her for our own ends," she said and his eyes narrowed.

"I am doing what I must, this match will benefit her future as much as it will my own!" he snarled.

"But …" she began.

"I want to hear no more about it!" he grasped the top of her arms, "Perhaps if you had delivered me sons all this could have been avoided!"

"I tried!" she snapped back, "You know how much loss I have suffered!"

"We have both suffered!" he corrected her.

"You mourned the loss of your heirs, you didn't know how it felt for me! I lost my babies, the little babies that I loved!" she choked out.

"Enough," he growled, shaking her slightly.

"Is this what it's come to?" she whispered, "You marrying Shireen to a cripple twice her age so you have a chance of taking the Iron Throne?"

"That throne is mine by rights as you well know!" he snapped, "And I will do whatever it takes to win it, do you understand me?!"

"I understand you perfectly," she breathed, barely recognising the look in his eyes.

"I will make whatever sacrifice is necessary," he whispered, moving her back to the edge of the stairs.

"Stannis …" she whimpered fearfully.

"I need a son Selyse," he told her, meeting her eyes.

"Stannis … no …" she pleaded.

"You really ought not to drink so much … it makes you clumsy," he said, pushing her back.

She didn't even scream as she tumbled down the steps. Stannis closed his eyes but he could still hear every sickening snap as she descended. When she finally reached the bottom with a final thud he opened his eyes and took a deep breath before looking down. She wasn't moving. Not even a twitch. If she wasn't dead yet then she soon would be. He turned then and walked towards his own rooms. The guards would find her soon enough and come to him with the news that his wife had tumbled down the stairs. They would be sorry and he would say all the right things. He would wear black and mourn her for an appropriate time. He had already looked into the Swann's. There was a daughter and she was young and healthy. Once Selyse had been laid to rest he would send word. If anything would get them on side it would be the promise of their daughter becoming Queen. Whatever it takes, he had told Selyse and he had meant every word.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **With regard to Stannis ... please remember it's AU. It's all part of the plan ...

Hope you all enjoyed that anyway and I will get another one up for you in a few days as a weekend treat (at least I hope it will be a treat!)

Thoughts would be awesome!

:)


	31. The First Wave

**A/N: **Hey guys! New chapter for you all which I hope you'll enjoy. We're (mostly) at the Wall this chapter. Anyway, I'll let you all get on and read it and if you would be so kind as to let me know what you thought of it that would be awesome and much appreciated!

:)

* * *

><p><strong>The First Wave<strong>

* * *

><p><em>Winterfell <em>

* * *

><p><em>Their hair was pale in the faint light. He reached out for her, wrapping his hands around her waist and she leant into his embrace, one of her hands sneaking up around his neck. The canvas shook slightly around them but neither of them seemed to take any notice as he bent his head to claim her lips. As they kissed her free hand came behind her back and slipped the blade free from the belt that was wrapped around her. She moved it slowly until she was holding it behind his back. Her hand was shaking as she held it there, her lips still moving with his as his hands wandered up and down her back. The grip on the dagger steadied then as she seemed to force herself to hold it still as she pulled it back slightly, her grip tightening as she prepared to plunge it into his back … <em>

A bark from Summer woke Bran and he sat up with a start, his heart pounding as he blinked furiously, trying to remember every detail of his dream. It felt the same as the dream he had had back at Flint's Finger, as though there was more than a hint of truth to it. He placed his hands to his temples and brought the images back to his head. Something felt familiar about the man in his dream but he couldn't quite place it. Perhaps it was the same man that he had seen with Dany and Jon. What if he was Aegon? His heart pounded. The dream had been too real and he somehow knew that wherever this man was he was in grave danger.

* * *

><p><em>The Wall<em>

* * *

><p>Dusk was falling and they could hear the drum beats and the wildlings horns from the other side of the Wall. Nothing had prepared Benjen for the sight that greeted him when he had ascended in the lift and looked down at them all. He had shared an uneasy glance with the Old Bear as they had gazed out at the seemingly never ending sea of wildlings that spread out before them. After they had stationed the men across the top of the Wall he and the Lord Commander had descended back down to the ground level. The new recruits were down there and Benjen was not afraid to say that more than a few of them repulsed him and made him feel more than uneasy. Biter especially was a man that would need a beady eye on him at all times, Yoren had told him of his past crimes and Benjen was determined that he was kept away from the brothel.<p>

They seemed to be grumbling amongst themselves as Benjen stepped off the lift and he didn't even have it in him to scold them. No one had come. Despite the messages that had been sent out no one had come. Not even Ned. Benjen couldn't deny that that hurt but even deeper down he was terrified. He knew his brother well enough to know that if he could come he would. The fact that he hadn't had worry set deep down inside Benjen and no matter how hard he tried to focus on this upcoming clash he could not erase it entirely. He looked up at the sky then and knew it would be less than an hour before the sun sank completely behind the horizon. He somehow knew that when it did the wildlings would begin their assault. Some of the men had been anxious to begin the battle as soon as wildlings were spotted slipping out of the trees but the Lord Commander had forbidden it. Benjen agreed. Let them start it so they could work out their strategy. They had few men as it was, it was pointless losing numbers until they knew exactly which weaknesses the wildlings would try and exploit. Benjen imagined some would try and scale the Wall but they had defences for that. Others he supposed would try and force the tunnel entrance and he was more than a little uneasy about that as he wasn't completely sure, but he suspected that they had giants with them.

The idea of flooding the tunnel and letting it freeze had been raised but the Old Bear had refused it. How would they go out on ranges? Ranges were the last thing on Benjen's mind right now. Before his last foray beyond the Wall he'd been itching to get out there again. After what he had seen though he would be more than happy to stay here at Castle Black and never go out there again. Even better he would like to return to Winterfell and pretend that he had never joined the Watch in the first place. Ned could help him find a nice wife who would look after him and bear him children. He sighed. Ned. Where was Ned and why hadn't he come? Sent word even? As he thought that, his eyes darting between his own entwined hands and the muttering new recruits, he heard a horn blast. At first he thought the wildlings had decided to start early but then it blasted again and he realised it was coming from the other side. He was hurrying towards the gates in an instant, demanding they be opened. When they did he could have laughed in relief as he saw the banners at the helm of the approaching men. Thousands of them. Tens of thousands. Mance wouldn't stand a chance now, not with the Wall on their side as well.

His eyes slid from the familiar direwolf sigil to the one that was being carried next to it. The three headed dragon. Unmistakeably Targaryen. What in the name of the Gods was going on? What had Ned done?

* * *

><p>When Ned saw Benjen he was off his horse at once, seeing how his younger brother looked at the Targaryen banners with a look of confusion and almost disgust on his face. Benjen had been too young to fight in the Rebellion, he didn't know about the intricacies of the war and all the conflicting emotions that Ned felt about it. He didn't know the truth of Lyanna. He didn't know that Rhaegar wasn't the monster he had been painted to be. It occurred to Ned now that perhaps he ought to have told him. Lyanna was his sister as well after all. It had been easy to let him live in ignorance though, he had been so young and the world was so black and white to him. Targaryen's were bad. Targaryen's killed his father and his brother and stole his sister away. She was dead because of them. Perhaps all that was true but there was so much more to it and Ned wished he had the time to explain all this properly to his brother. He knew he didn't though, night was falling fast and he imagined from the uneasy looks some of the Night's Watch were exchanging that it would not be long until the battle for the Wall began.<p>

"Ned?" Benjen asked as soon as he approached him, his eyes sliding over the banners again.

"I don't have the time to tell you, and even if I did you wouldn't believe me," Ned sighed.

"Tell me what I have to know," Benjen said insistently and Ned sighed again in defeat.

"Robb!" he called out, "Take charge, you and the banners arrange the men where the Lord Commander sees fit!"

"Aye," Robb nodded, sliding down from his own horse and moving down the ranks.

"Over here," Ned took Benjen's arm and led him away from any straining ears.

"What have you done Ned?" Benjen asked him when they were out of earshot.

"Aegon Targaryen isn't dead," he said and his brother stared at him.

"Have you lost your mind?" Benjen whispered.

"He's alive and I believe him to be real … I've promised him my support, he seems a good man and he is kin," Ned explained.

"Kin?" Benjen repeated.

"Robb and Dany have married," he told him.

"That's a tentative link Ned, how can you trust this?!" Benjen demanded.

"There was more to the war than I ever told you," Ned confessed.

"What didn't you tell me?" he asked in a dangerously low voice.

"We all believed Rhaegar took Lyanna against her will," Ned began.

"And raped and murdered her," Benjen spat.

"He didn't," Ned shook his head and Benjen stared.

"What?" he whispered, and Ned could hear the fury in that one word.

"She went willingly with him … he didn't kill her … she … she died because …" Ned tailed off, seeing the darkening look in his brother's eyes.

"Because?" he practically snarled.

"She had a baby," Ned confessed and Benjen looked as though his eyes would pop out of his head before they moved from him to land on Jon.

"Tell me he's not …" Benjen whispered.

"He's hers," Ned nodded, "and that makes him half Targaryen … Aegon's brother"

"All this time?" Benjen asked, accusing eyes back on Ned now.

"Do you understand why I had to name him as my own?" Ned asked him in return.

"I do," Benjen nodded, "but I don't understand why you never told me"

"The fewer people knew the better, you were just a boy at the time," Ned tried to reason.

"Who knew?" Benjen asked.

"Cat," he told him, "only Cat, no one else ever knew … not until I had to tell Jon"

"By the Gods Ned," Benjen shook his head, "that's why she was always so good to him?"

"Aye," Ned nodded his head and Benjen swallowed hard.

"You should have told me," Benjen said, fixing him with a hard stare.

"I should have," Ned agreed.

"Promise me there is nothing else," he said, not moving his eyes away.

"I swear to you," Ned held his gaze and Benjen stared for the longest time before nodding his head.

* * *

><p>Robb could feel the tension between his father and his uncle Benjen as he moved among the ranks of men and drilled them as best he could. They were to stay here and make sure none got through the tunnel if it was breeched. Something had been mentioned about giants and Robb had tried not to appear frightened. He was a man grown and he had to prove to himself and to everyone else that he could do this. He caught sight of Benjen looking at Jon uneasily as he stood in conversation with Aegon and Robb thought it more than likely that his father had told him the truth. It still seemed strange to Robb that Jon wasn't really his brother, he still loved him as a brother but it pained him slightly to see him so friendly with Aegon. His true brother. He couldn't begrudge Jon getting to know his other kin but he still wasn't sure how he felt about Aegon. Not that it mattered. They were allied with him now and he would fight for him at his side no matter how he felt about him. He glanced towards Dany then who was stood apart from the men, chewing slightly on her lower lip. Robb knew he ought to get her somewhere safe and so he asked one of Lord Karstark's sons to take over the drill and moved towards his uncle.<p>

As he did so he noticed one of the men of the Night's Watch looking Dany up and down, an almost animalistic look in his eyes as he practically salivated over her. Robb could just see him undressing her with his eyes and he wanted to gouge them out. She was his wife. And even if she wasn't no man had any right to look her up and down in such a manner as though she was just a common whore whose flesh could be bought. Dany was a highborn Lady. More so, she was a Princess now that they had come out in support of Aegon. He had named her such and she had blushed. Robb had teased her with it later as they lay in bed and she had swatted him away, telling him that she was more than content with the title of being his wife. That had brought a smile to his face and he hadn't been able to resist showing her exactly what her words meant to him. He glanced towards the man with the wandering eyes again as he approached Benjen, his hands balling into fists at his sides.

"Biter," his uncle said as he reached him.

"Sorry?" Robb frowned, moving his eyes from the man who still had his on Dany.

"The man who is appraising your wife … he's known as Biter," Benjen explained.

"Do I even want to know why?" Robb sighed.

"No," Benjen looked disgusted, "but you ought to keep her far from his reach"

"I was coming to ask you where I can keep her safe," Robb said.

"Best take her down to the kitchens, it's warmest down there and she can have something to eat. She can lock herself in until this is done," Benjen told him.

"Thank you," Robb said meaningfully, "did … did my father speak to you about …"

"He did," Benjen's expression hardened.

"It's hard on everyone," Robb said softly.

"I know that lad," Benjen said, "but she was my sister. Imagine it were your sister and you had spent over half your life imagining that fate for her in your mind"

"I can't," Robb shook his head.

"Even now when I know it's not true I can still see it in my head," Benjen practically snarled.

"Look … I'm not his biggest admirer but … none of it was Aegon's doing, he was a babe," Robb soothed.

"Aye," Benjen agreed, "I know that … best you get your Lady safely away"

Robb knew he was dismissed then, that his uncle wanted to say no more and so he walked towards his wife instead, feeling Biter's eyes on him as he took her hand to lead her away. She said nothing as he walked her into the keep but her hand tightened in his and he returned the pressure, trying not to think the worst. Even if something were to happen to him she would be well taken care of. There were many who would look after her but he prayed they wouldn't have to. That was his job now. He imagined that the kitchens were downstairs and he was relieved to notice that he was right as they descended down. Benjen was right, it was warm. She would be just fine here. Robb scanned the room to make sure that no one else was around before he fixed his eyes on hers.

"Do you have to go?" she whispered.

"It's my duty," he told her.

"I wish you would stay down here with me," she said, lifting her hand to stroke down his cheek.

"And have the Greatjon call me a craven? I would never live it down," he smiled slightly.

"He seems to be growing fonder of you," she said, a smile twitching her own lips.

"He prefers me to Aegon, it's hardly glowing praise," he raised his brows.

"Robb!" she scolded him lightly but he pressed a kiss to her lips before she could say any more.

"Who knows, perhaps we will both prove ourselves to him," he said when he pulled away.

"Promise me that won't be the last kiss you give me," she whispered.

"I promise," he breathed, touching his lips to hers once again.

"I love you Robb," she said, meeting his eyes.

"I love you too," he gazed back for a moment before regretfully stepping away from her; "lock the door behind me. Don't open it for anyone you don't know do you promise me?"

"I promise you," she nodded and he swallowed hard and forced a smile for her before he left the kitchens, closing the door behind him.

* * *

><p>Jon swallowed hard as the drums began to beat, seeing the line of wildlings begin to advance slowly towards the Wall. Aegon was stood at his side and he glanced uneasily at him, only to see that he was looking down the ranks of men that stood atop the Wall with bows in hand. Jon had a bow of his own, he wasn't a brilliant shot but he was better than Robb and so his father … his uncle, he corrected himself, had asked him to come atop the Wall. Griff had insisted Aegon come up as well, thinking that he would be in less danger up there. Hearing that had only made Jon worry about Robb down hundreds of feet below them. He was with the Greatjon though and Jon was reassured enough by that. Robb was good with the sword, he would be alright should any get through the tunnel. It was up to Jon and the thousands of other archers atop the Wall to ensure that that didn't happen, that any who tried to force their way through were struck down before they had the chance.<p>

"Archers!" the Lord Commander bellowed, "Notch!"

They all seemed to move as one, taking an arrow from the barrels laid out in front of them and notching them into their bows. Wildly Jon thought of Theon and almost wished the man who so got under his skin was at his side now. For all his whoring and impropriety Theon was a perfect shot and Jon felt that he himself shot better when he was around, probably out of sheer determination not to be mocked by him more than anything else. It wasn't Theon at his side though, it was Aegon to his right and some unknown sell sword to his left. He swallowed hard and tried to take a deep breath as the wave of what looked like tiny ants from up here came ever closer.

"Draw!" the Lord Commander shouted.

Again they all moved as one, raising the bows and drawing back the strings. Below them the first wave of wildlings had reached the base of the Wall. Jon remembered what his uncle Benjen had said about some of them trying to scale it. They would be easily picked off Jon imagined but Benjen was of the opinion that they were more to cause a distraction. What they had to focus on were those who were going for the entrance to the tunnel. It was imperative to keep them away. Those scaling the Wall would have to climb for hours and they could worry about them later.

"Loose!" the Lord Commander ordered then and thousands of arrows soared through the air towards those who were advancing on the tunnel entrance.

Benjen had mentioned giants but thankfully Jon could see no sign of them yet as they were ordered to notch another arrow. He had no idea if his first had even hit a target but he knew that with thousands concentrated on such a small area that some at least would have hit the mark. The drew back and loosed again as ordered before the Lord Commander shouted out for them to duck down behind the Wall. Jon did as he was told at once, feeling Aegon drop to his knees beside him. On the other side of him the nameless sell sword was not quick enough. He barely had time to cry out in pain before the force of the arrow that had hit him knocked him off his feet. He seemed to stumble for a moment but before anyone could reach out to him he was lost over the edge. Jon tried not to think of the fall and he tried even harder not to think of the landing.

The Lord Commander was ordering them back up again then and he notched and drew and loosed as he was told to, only locking eyes with Aegon when they were ordered to duck down again. Fewer men were caught out this time but there were still some lost over the edge, some falling backwards, others slumping forwards and falling down towards the enemy. Aegon's eyes were as wide as Jon knew his must be and he knew in that moment that if they both survived this they would be green boys no longer.

* * *

><p>Robb tried not to flinch as another body hit the icy ground. As it was he closed his eyes, not wanting to fix them on what was left of the fallen man. The first time a body had hit the ground he had almost cried out. Thankfully he hadn't. The Greatjon would never have let him live that down. He longed to know what was happening up there and beyond the Wall. Benjen had said it was likely that barrages of arrows would be exchanged for hours, both sides picking off what men they could. Later in the night he imagined they would bring forth the giants and try to force the gates. Robb had tried not to let anyone see the shake in his hands when his uncle had said that. <em>Giants. <em>Gods. When the war had started he knew he would end up fighting eventually, but he had imagined that when the time came he would be fighting men, not giants. He thought of Dany down there in the kitchens then and determined that no matter what happened to him there was no way any wildling nor any giant nor any other beast or man would get through that tunnel. The thought of what could happen to her if they found her made him want to retch. He slid his eyes to the man named Biter then and clenched his fist a little more tightly around the hilt of his sword.

A shout from behind drew his attention then and he whipped his head around, looking away from the tunnel entrance for the first time in what felt like hours. He didn't need the shouts and warnings of the men further back, he had already seen the problem. They had been so focused on the tunnel entrance that they had missed the grappling hooks been thrown over the walls. Had missed the wildlings spilling over. They had made their arrival clear now though and Robb pulled his sword from his sheath as the men around him did the same. There was no time to organise them, this was a fight and it was already upon them. The Greatjon threw himself into the mix and Robb moved after him, pulling his sword up to clash against a wildling as he did so, seeing the almost maniacal glint in the man's eyes. No doubt he saw him as a boy but Robb had been taught how to wield a sword well. He knew the best way to clash steel, to wrong foot an opponent and have him lying flat on his back with the blade pressed to his throat. Only in the tiltyard he would move the blade away, usually share a joke and a smile with the man he had defeated before offering his hand to help him up.

This time he would have to slash his steel across the man's throat before moving it up again to clash against the next opponent. There would be no time to draw breath, no time to take a drink from a water skin and limber himself up for the next go round. All Robb could think of was Winterfell then and how much he wanted to go home. If he wanted to go home he would have to kill this man, and then another and another until they were finished. He steeled himself, shifted his grip on the hilt of his sword slightly and moved his feet differently. It worked, the wilding hesitated just long enough for Robb to see weakness and he didn't miss his chance, driving the blade into the man's side as far as he could. The roar of pain sounded deafening to him, the rush of warm blood over his hands made him feel sick but he forced down his revulsion and wrenched the steel free from the man who slumped down to the ground. As predicted he needed to quickly move his sword up to clash against another. This man had a small axe and was rather clumsy with it, Robb was almost embarrassed at how easy it was to best him, stepping over his dead body and meeting another opponent after mere seconds.

From what he could tell his own men were winning, the Greatjon seemed to be in his element as Robb skirted round the bodies littering the ground to find another wildling to clash with. Their number were few now, he could see that now he finally had a moment to really look around and appraise the situation. His father had taught him that he always needed to be aware, be in control of the situation if he was to be a commanding and skilled leader that his men would respect. He took a breath then, his eyes scanning the scene as his heart pounded. They would win this. There were only minutes left, if that. Just as he came to that conclusion his eyes found a lone archer reaching back to pull an arrow from her quiver. Even from a distance Robb could see the wildling's eyes trained on the Greatjon who was cutting so quickly through the remaining enemies that it was almost frightening. He didn't stop to think, he ran as the archer notched the arrow and drew back the bow, adjusting her aim as she prepared to loose. Robb was too far away so he did the only thing he could think of a let out a roar of fury that distracted the archer for just a second. It was all the time Robb needed to barrel into her, knocking the wind from her as he pinned her to the ground. It would be ever so easy for him to slit her throat but something stopped him and he knew it was because she was a woman.

She didn't seem to have any qualms about trying to kill him though as she raised her hand and tried to stab him with her arrow. He was too quick for her, enclosing her hand in his, his grip so strong that the arrow snapped in half and he saw the pain in her eyes although he imagined that she was too stubborn to let a whimper escape her. He tossed the pieces of the arrow away then and slowly moved away from her, keeping his blade a fraction away from her throat. She kept her eyes on his and slowly raised her hands in a gesture of surrender. Robb felt others come up behind him then and felt safe to move his sword away. He offered her his hand then and she took it and he pulled her up to her feet, his eyes still on hers, just waiting for her to do something stupid.

"My Lord?" one of the men behind him questioned.

"Bind her hands and feet and take her into the keep," he ordered.

"Aye my Lord," he agreed coming forward with a comrade to take the wildling woman by the arms.

"Are there any others?" Robb asked.

"Couple injured," another man answered him.

"Tend to them, they might be of use," Robb told him as he sheathed his sword.

"Aye my Lord," he nodded to him.

"Is there news from atop the Wall?" Robb asked them then.

"They're backing off for the night, Lord Commander thinks they were testing our defences, likely they'll come at us again in a day or two," someone answered him.

"Wonderful," he said dryly and the men smiled faintly before turning to do as he bid them.

"You saved my life there lad, even if it was a foolish move," the Greatjon said as he walked towards him.

"My father would never forgive me if I let one of his favoured banners get felled by an arrow," Robb replied, meeting the older man's eyes.

"Not such a green lad after all," the Greatjon managed a smile as he held his hand out.

"No," Robb agreed, taking it, "not anymore."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** That's just the first wildling attack. They'll be back ;)

Thoughts?

:)


End file.
